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/ have succeeded by putting my mind unto it. 

SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 



SUCCESS IN LIFE, 



&nti J^oto to Secure It ; 



Elements of Manhood 



tntr if)m OTultim. 



COPIOUSLY ILLUSTRATED BY INCIDENTS FROM THE LIVES 
OF EMINENT MEN. 





BY WILLIAM D. OWEN. 



BY SUBSCRIPTION ONLY. 



CHICAGO: 
HOWE WATTS AND COMPANY 

1878. 



o 



& 



o 



COPYRIGHT, 
HOWE WATTS AND COMPANY, 

1878. 



PRINTED AT THB LAKE8IDE PRE88, CHICAGO. BOUND BY A. J. COX & CO. 

DONNELLEY, LOYD * CO. CHICAGO. 




PREFACE. 



This book had its origin as follows : Seven years ago, the author 
had in his congregation several young men who were undecided 
in reference to their life-calling, and who sought counsel to guide 
their steps into the right path. With a desire to be of service, 
not to them alone, but to as many as could be reached by his 
voice, he prepared and delivered a lecture on "Success in Life, 
and How to Secure it.". The favorable reception of that lecture, 
and the good results which seemed to flow from it, gave encour- 
agement to further effort in the same direction ; and other 
lectures followed, until the manuscript had swelled to consider- 
able proportions. That manuscript has been carefully revised 
and substantially re-written ; and, with the biographies added, is 
now presented to the public in book form. 

It is manifestly almost impossible to add materially, in either 
fact or suggestion, to a subject upon which the largest minds of 
ancient and of modern days have lavished the treasures of 
maturest thought. Indeed, it is no paradox to say that the very 
surfeit of writings upon this subject has seemed to make the 
present work a necessity. For, as those in search of good advice 
can not read all that is offered them, and are liable to bewilder- 
ment among a multitude of counselors, it has appeared to the 
writer that he was doing wisely and well in re-casting old 



8 PREFACE. 

thoughts and drawing on the experience and example of later 
years for what might appear best adapted to the needs of the 
passing day. 

In doing this, he has endeavored to commend his views rather 
by illustrations drawn from the lives of successful men, than 
by lengthened didactic utterances. The value of these illus- 
trations is not always proportionate to their length; for some 
remarkable careers may be summed up in a pithy sentence, 
which seemed to form the key-note of a noble life, while the 
marrow of others can be got at only by considerable amplifica- 
tion. De Buffon's success can be told in a single phrase, 
while many particulars are required to illustrate the indom- 
itable resolution and tireless energy of Bernard Palissy. 

The lives of Clay, Greene, and Stewart have been sketched 
in still greater detail, these three having been chosen as repre- 
sentative men : Clay as a pattern of the nobly patriotic and 
incorruptibly upright statesman, who, worthily elevated to exalted 
positions, and proudly ambitious of yet higher honors, would 
still ''rather be right than be President;" Greene as an example 
of an active, energetic man and cultured gentleman, who finds 
scope for his energies in a border community and on a farm — 
content to be happy without making others miserable, and to 
climb to fortune without trampling others down to poverty ; and 
Stewart as an illustration of a merchant who gained probably 
the greatest single fortune of his age by being resolutely honest 
and religiously just. These are not lonely impossibles, who 
may be worshiped from afar, but in whose giant footsteps puny 
mortals may not tread — demigods and Thor-strikers, speaking 
with "the large utterance of the early gods;" but men whom 
other men may equal, if only their patient industry and careful 
thought be imitated. These are fit examples, because their 
necromancy was but common sense, because they were typical 
Americans, and because they were self-made men. 



PREFACE 9 

It is a pleasure, as well as a duty, to acknowledge in this 
place valuable assistance rendered by Elder J. W. Monser, in 
revision of the manuscript. 

In the chapter on Self-Assertion, which deals with an element 
of character seldom written upon, the author has received impor- 
tant and highly-valued aid in the shape of notes furnished by his 
versatile friend, W. W. Linn, Esq. 

In this work are condensed materials gathered from every 
source to which the author had access ; and to it he has given 
his best thought and most earnest endeavor. He sends it forth 
in fervent hope that it may give courage to some faltering hearts, 
direct some seeking the right way, and inspire in not a few 
ambition to be the equals of the men whose lives are herein set 
forth as examples. 

Chicago, February, 1878. 





TO THE 
MEMORY OF 

2Br. J- J* Hatoltngs, 

THE PATRON OP MY CHILDHOOD, THE COUNSELOR 

OF MY YOUTH, AND THE FRIEND 

OF MY MANHOOD, I 

DEDICATE THIS 

BOOK. 

TO HIM I OWE MUCH 

FOR WHATEVER OF SUCCESS 

I HAVE ATTAINED IN THIS LIFE. 

THE AUTHOR. 




CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE. 

Success a Slow Growth, ------ 17 

CHAPTER II. 
Choice of a Profession, ------ 33 

CHAPTER III. 
Economy of Time, - ------ ,$9 

CHAPTER IV. 
Aim, ----------75 

CHAPTER V. 
Self -Reliance, --------97 

CHAPTER VI. 
Decision, - - - - - - - - -125 

CHAPTER VII. 
Culture, - - - - - - - - -153 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Henry Clay, .--.-_-_ 179 

CHAPTER IX. 
Henry Clay, (Continued), ------ 205 

CHAPTER X. 
Luck and Pluck, ------- 237 



14 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XL 



PAGE. 



Business Habits, -------- 265 

CHAPTER XII. 
Business Habits, (Continued), ----- 278 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Business Drudgery, ------- 299 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Turning Points, - - - - - - - -317 

CHAPTER XV. 
Turning Points, (Continued), ----- 336 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Will - Power, - - - - - " - - - 345 

CHAPTER XVII. 
William G. Greene, - - - - - - 363 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
William G. Greene, (Continued), - 384 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Self -Assertion, - - - - • • - - - - 407 

CHAPTER XX. 
Perseverance, _-_-_-__ 423 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Perseverance, (Continued), ------ 445 

CHAPTER XXII. 
Originality, --_- .____ 465 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
Physical Culture, __--__- 481 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
A. T. Stewart, -------- 507 



Success in Life. 




Success a £>ioto <£rototf). 



He that belie veth shall not make haste. — Isaiah xxviii, 16. 

No man can end with being superior who will not begin with 
being inferior. — Sidney Smith. 

Success in most things depends on knowing how long it takes 
to succeed. — Montesquieu. 





CHAPTER I 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 




HE gates are up and the sea comes into the dry-dock. 
Up rises the great ship and chaffers with the waves, 
impatient to try her strength and fortune. Every 
thing seems complete. Masts, and yards, and spars, and cords, 
and pulleys, and sails, are according to the pattern seen in 
the mount of experience. The compass scents the pole, and 
the chart awaits interrogation. A sturdy crew is on board, 
and a brave captain stands on deck. The seaward breeze 
lifts out the loosened sail, and adorns the sky with the flag of 
freedom. Why does not the goodly craft go forth to her mighty 
achievements ? I will tell you. The captain is perfecting and 
adjusting the ballast. The weight is being packed and dis- 
tributed. It may be iron, or side pork, or sand, but it is 
ballast. A man making ready to embark on some important 
voyage in life feels the sea as it reaches its loving arms in to 
embrace him, even in dry-dock. His impulses are to float out 
on the first wave, and set sail for his port. But why hold 
him back for an hour ? I will tell you. I wish, if possible, to 
pack and distribute his ballast. You may think it iron, or 
side pork, or sand, but it is ballast. — Dr. Charles H. Fowler. 



Men, like vessels, are brought on to the sea of life,. 
differing in construction and capacity. All can not 



18 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

carry the same burden, nor ride safely through the 
same storms. Some are very humble, feeling that 
they must be contented, like fishing smacks, to sail 
in shallow waters. Others are like ships of a 
thousand tons, fitted to carry the commerce of 
nations ; while here and there is one that is 
undoubtedly designed for a flag ship. 

Our purpose in this volume is to examine the 
reasons of these inequalities ; to remind the success- 
ful of the responsibilities attending their position, 
and of the necessity for continued effort if they 
would continue to prosper ; and to show others 
that patient endeavor, if reasonably well directed, 
will most assuredly achieve gratifying results : in a 
word, that perseverance, rather than the fitful efforts 
of natural ability, however great, is the key to 
success. In discussing the elements that enter into 
a successful life, we can not hope to consider all 
details. The world is scarcely large enough to 
contain such a book. Only a few points of vital 
interest will be taken up — those without which no 
man can hope to triumph. 

It is said some men succeed in defiance 01 all 
rules. They may, in spite of all rules recognized 
by the mass of men, for the mass is unobservant; 
but, visible or invisible, rules there are, governing 
with imperious sway, which no man who hopes for 
preferment may disobey. Inflexibility is a charac- 
teristic of the laws of business. Circumstances may 
be overruled, but the ordinances of trade are sure 
and changeless. He who violates them must cer- 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 19 

tainly pay the penalty ; but this is not more sure 
than that victory is wrought out of toil by those 
who accept its stern exactions. Let a man, then, 
who would win in the race of life, put himself fairly 
and squarely on the track, to begin with, and let him 
be sure that he can be reconciled to whatever prize 
awaits him. Having so far settled it, what remains 
for him to do is to adjust himself to his surround- 
ings. 

Flying at our mast-head is this motto : Success 
a slow growth. The introduction to the problem 
we have before us relates itself to Time. This is 
a factor which to despise is to ruin our work in its 
very inception. He who would command enduring 
success must spend long, weary years either in care- 
ful preparation or arduous struggle. More men fail 
in life for lack of persistent effort than for lack of 
genius. 

It is an established fact that the majority of 
those young men who start in life under the most 
favorable auspices fail of making their mark. The 
very character of success is such that it tends to 
paralyze their efforts. Success to an experienced 
man kindles perseverance, blowing energy to a 
white heat. But the novice, crowned with a few 
glories, finds in them a siren that lulls to sleep all 
his energies. It leads him into the delusion that 
he was born under a lucky star, and therefore the 
gods will care for him. Although we Americans 
boast so greatly about our individuality, and reject 
positively the doctrine of fatalism, down deep in 



20 SUCCESS IN LIFE 

the heart there lurks a shadowy but potent impres- 
sion that it is better to be born lucky than rich. 
There never was a greater fallacy. "Luck" is the 
prize of him who takes it. The word is the euphu- 
ism of the weak to excuse their weakness. 

Early achievements in business, in literature, or 
on the forum, certainly tell of unusual powers, and 
if the physical and mental organizations are well 
balanced and well preserved, we may pretty safely 
prophesy of things yet to come. John Quincy 
Adams, when seven years old, was called into the 
presence of the family, where he delivered a speech 
creditable to a lad of fourteen. You may call this 
precocity. But if so, it was attended by growth. 
Nor did he ever stop growth. Having won the 
title of "Old Man Eloquent," he died at an advanced 
age on the floor of Congress. Bonaparte, at school, 
on the field where the students had their snow 
forts, was the miniature of the general who led the 
phalanxes of France with success against the five 
coalitions of Austria. William Cullen Bryant, at the 
age of sixteen, wrote " Thanatopsis," a poem admired 
and quoted wherever literature is loved. After scat- 
tering immortal gems along his path for sixty-six 
years, recently, at the age of eighty-two, he sends 
forth the " Flood of Years," which for lofty imagery 
and superb diction has been excelled by none, and 
rarely equaled by himself. Yet in the face of these 
illustrious examples of bright youth and stalwart 
age, it is a fact that the majority of brilliant young 
men soon fail, and are heard of no more. 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 21 

Persistence will tell against mere brilliancy. Many 
of the most famous men were not remarkable in 
their youth for anything but dullness. Julius Caesar 
was very ordinary in mind and aspiration. It was only 
after severe seasons of experience that he developed 
such capacity as enabled him to command uncon- 
querable legions, and to become the world's type of 
an unbounded ambition. Hudibras was accounted 
the wittiest book of the times, but Charles II pro- 
nounced its author a stupid blockhead. The brilliant 
Sheridan, in his boyhood, was branded a hopeless 
dunce. Shakspeare, we are told, was prodigiously 
dull before he came to his teens. Martin Luther 
was such a blunderer at his books, that he himself 
records fifteen whippings he received in one forenoon, 
for failure in recitations, and although he denounces 
his teachers as tyrants, it does not appear that they 
were ever able to rouse his torpid mind. While at 
Mansfield he begged from door to door, possessing 
nothing but a musical voice and the scraps of food 
cast into his bag. A superstitious dread of what 
might come to pass drove him into religion, and in 
after years he said: "It was one of Gods ways of 
making men out of beggars, as he made the world 
out of nothing." Daniel Webster was never head in 
his classes. Indeed, he was averse to study. He 
says that up to fifteen years of age the Friday 
evening declamation was his mortal dread. Patrick 
Henry was a shirk at work and a lout at study 
until after he was thirty. Beecher, with all his 
brilliancy, and munificent gifts, was recognized as 



22 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

common at school, his dilatoriness in study and love 
of fun being his most marked characteristics. 

Some minds are aroused to activity more slowly 
than others, just as some bodies are of slow physical 
growth. While it is not always true that early 
development involves early decay, yet a late develop- 
ment is not to be regretted. It saves one from many 
stumblings and humblings. It is attended by less 
risks. It brings a no less valuable life when it 
begins unfolding. The youthful mind may indeed 
be dormant, but to struggle as did Webster with the 
policies of a nation, or Bernard Palissy for an artistic 
effect, or Newton for a demonstration of the law of 
gravitation, though it take a score of years to reach 
the result, gives a character, when it comes, that 
extends in all directions over the life of the dis- 
coverer. The mere publication of Les Miserables 
did not give Hugo his reputation as a writer, nor 
did the battle of Waterloo make Wellington a great 
commander. Great works do not make greatness ; 
they only reveal it. Hugo had been a mighty thinker 
and rhetorician, and Wellington a mighty warrior, for 
many years. One is as truly great through the long 
years of- labor he patiently puts forth to accomplish 
the end, as on the day he takes the world's diploma 
as a master. No man is great who has to study 
'tactics and prepare himself after the battle-call has 
sounded. 

Rely not upon prestige or the help of friends for 
success. The day for that has passed. If you 
would win, you must win with your own clear head 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH 23 

and resolute neart backing the nervous effort of 
your own strong arm. Without these, you will be 
dashed aside with a giant's stroke. If some men 
you know came to the top without a struggle, 
do n't you try it. The very fact that they have 
arisen, proves them to have possessed energies 
unknown to you. It is one of the principles of 
justice, that only the industrious shall attain to 
permanent success. Ill-gained wealth easily departs. 

We have often thought it fortunate that youth 
fails to foresee the burdens before it. Take our 
boys as they enter school, their souls all aflame 
with educational desires, and point out to them the 
seven years' mental toil to be undergone — the weary 
hours, the headaches, the mortifications and prostra- 
tions, the faggings and the fears — and one- half 
would hesitate to enter college. 

The pursuit and possession of success, after all, 
yield a greater amount of happiness than any other 
earthly object. Love and labor are both barren 
without a summit toward which to climb. The 
mountain air of hope is crisp with the dews of 
endeavor, ascending with us step by step ; and 
though we may be jagged by the pointed rocks, yet 
out of their crevices flows the balm that heals us. 
Disraeli affords a striking example of how much 
toil and endurance of failure one must sometimes 
pay for eminence. He has overcome more obstacles 
and worked harder for his "throne" than any living 
Englishman. Like many other great men, he reached 
success only through a series of failures. Fortu- 



24 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

nate is that man whom failure energizes. At the 
outset of his career he was considered a literary 
lunatic. His "Wondrous Tale of Alroy" and 
" Revolutionary Epic " were regarded with derision. 
Like a true man, he was stung by this disappoint- 
ment, yet he worked on the more assiduously, and 
" Sibyl " and " Tancred " began to display the sterling 
metal of which he was made. His ambition prompted 
him to seek the forum. But here, too, his first effort 
was a failure. His opening speech in the House of 
Commons was pronounced " more screaming than an 
Adelphi farce." Conceived in elevated thought and 
composed in ambitious diction, " Every sentence 
was hailed with loud laughter." ' Hamlet played as 
a comedy were nothing to it." But he closed that 
effort with a sentence which once more revealed the 
man. Writhing under the jeers with which his 
studied eloquence had been received, he shook his 
long, bony fingers at the house, and vehemently 
exclaimed : " I have begun several times many things, 
and have succeeded in them at last. I will sit down 
now, but the time will come when you will hear me." 
Once more he set himself to work. He carefully 
unlearned his faults, closely studied the character of 
his hearers, practiced night and day all the arts of 
speech, and industriously filled his mind with consti- 
tutional law and parliamentary knowledge. Patiently 
he labored. His prophecy was fulfilled. The house 
laughs with him, instead of at him. He is one of 
the most ornate and effective of parliamentary 
speakers. Crowded galleries and floor hang breath- 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 25 

less on his words. The people now eagerly seek 
after his books, and his manuscripts command 
almost fabulous prices. He is the most popular 
man in the nation. Disraeli will pass into the 
history of England " The Great Premier." 

The illustrious John Scott, afterward Lord Eldon, 
climbed slowly to distinction. He rose at four every 
morning, and studied till late at night, binding a 
wet towel round his head to keep himself awake. 
After four years of waiting, his opportunity came. 
Engaged on a case, he urged a legal point in 
opposition to the advice of his attorney and client, 
and lost the case. He appealed to the House of 
Lords, and Lord Thurlow reversed the decision. 
As he left the House, a leading solicitor tapped him 
on the shoulder, and said: "Young man, your bread 
and butters cut for life." In about ten years from 
his call to the bar, he was on the road to its 
highest honors. 

Through this same long-toiling process has come 
the majority of our great journalists. Greeley, Brooks 
and Bryant went to their beds at night as thoroughly 
tired as the men who worked their old-fashioned hand- 
presses. These men have shone in journalism ; but in 
this, like every profession, it takes hard work to put 
the gloss. on. James Gordon Bennett issued the first 
number of the Mew York Herald from a cellar on 
Ann Street. It was a poverty-stricken cellar, and 
the editor's writing-desk was a board stretched across 
the head of a barrel. Bennett was poor and unknown. 



26 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

He was without patronage, and had no backers. He 
was his own clerk, reporter, editor and errand boy; 
he wrote all the articles that appeared in the Herald, 
wrote many of the advertisements, and superintended 
the selling of the paper. The office was without 
comforts, and the editor's only hope of success rested 
on his indomitable confidence in the world's justice — 
that the man would be recognized who continued to do 
his work well. Few papers have been called upon to 
engage in such battles as the Herald has passed 
through. Its editor never once relaxed his vast 
energies ; he raised the little obscure penny sheet by 
gradual steps for more than a generation, until it 
came to be recognized as the most enterprising paper 
in the world, and a power in the land. Mr. Bennett 
died at an advanced age, leaving the magnificent 
Herald building and his own colossal fortune as a 
standing monument of what may be accomplished by 
an active purpose in a life-time. 

The mass of successful financiers, like the majority 
of great men in other departments of business, have 
been compelled, after labor, to await the natural 
growth of results. Many fortunes have been realized 
on a sudden by speculation, but the majority are no 
sooner risen than, "like the Coal Oil Prince, they 
are busted." The fortune that abides with a man 
is built up by the gradual accretions of laborious 
years. 

George Peabody furnishes an eminent illustration 
of our general thought. His vast fortune was 
won through the careful application of long years. 
In 1856, when on a visit to Danvers, now named 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 27 

Peabody, in honor of him, its most distinguished son 
and greatest benefactor, he said : 

" Though Providence has granted me an unvaried 
and unusual success in the pursuit of fortune in other 
lands, I am still, in heart, the humble boy who left 
yonder unpretending dwelling. There is not a youth 
within the sound of my voice whose early opportuni- 
ties and advantages are not very much greater than 
were my own, and I have since achieved nothing that 
is impossible to the humblest boy among you." 

The bulk of Mr. Vanderbilt's fortune was earned 
after he was fifty years of age, and his heaviest 
operations were consummated when he was beyond 
three -score years. At this period they became 
appreciable to the world, but to Vanderbilt it had 
been one continued growth. A. T. Stewart made 
more money after his fiftieth year than ever before. 
So did John Jacob Astor. The fortunes of the world 
have been made by men after the age of fifty — the 
fifty years previous being spent in establishing physi- 
cal health and acquiring business knowledge. 

One Lord's Day, Lyman Beecher delivered one 
of his characteristic discourses before an immense 
audience. It was pronounced by many to be the 
finest effort of his life. As he stepped from the 
pulpit, a brother minister, a young man, approached 
him and inquired : " Doctor, how long did it take 
you to get up that sermon ?" The Doctor smiled 
down on the youthful aspirant, and said, "Fifty 
years, sir." 

The class of common day- laborers has furnished 



28 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

us men who waited on success. They have given us 
Brindly the engineer, Cook the navigator, and Burns 
the poet. Masons and bricklayers can boast of Ben 
Jonson, who worked at the building of Lincoln's 
Inn, with a trowel in his hand and a book in his 
pocket ; Edwards and Telford the engineers, Hugh 
Miller the geologist, and Allan Cunningham the 
writer and sculptor ; while among distinguished car- 
penters we find the names of Inigo Jones the archi- 
tect, Harrison the chronometer-maker, John Hunter 
the physiologist, Romney and Opie the painters, 
Professor Lee the orientalist, and John Gibson the 
sculptor. Among the famous blacksmiths we find, 
Robert Collyer the great preacher, and Elihu Burritt 
the linguist. All these men have traveled to their 
eminence over the long -established pathway of a 
life -effort. 

Sir Joshua Reynolds said, " Excellence is never 
granted to man but as the reward of labor." If you 
have great talents, industry will improve them ; if 
you have but moderate abilities, industry will supply 
the deficiency. "Nothing is denied to well-directed 
labor ; nothing is to be obtained without it." 

Sir Fowell Buxton was a firm believer in the power 
of time. In his day, as in ours, men were restive 
under labor, and impatient at delay. Men fail not 
because they are not willing to work, but because 
they will not wait. Unable to reach the highest 
success in a few years, they conclude they never can 
reach it. Buxton entertained the modest idea that 
he could do as well as other men if he devoted to 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 29 

the pursuit double the time and labor that they did. 
He placed his great confidence in ordinary means 
and extraordinary endurance. 

Says the thoughtful Dr. Fowler : " Greatness is 
beyond a long journey. There may seem to be 
exceptions, but beware of the fallacy. Carefully 
studied, the very exceptions most clearly illustrate 
the rule. Victory is often a question of time. It 
is one of the deep encouragements of an age that 
ordinary men with extraordinary industry reach the 
highest achievements. 

"Any man with solid moral purpose, patient 
industry, plain common sense, and unwearying 
courage, can become a useful and eminent man. 
Not in a day, not in a week, not indeed in a 
year, but in a life-time. Achievements that are 
remembered cost some one a life-work. There is 
no hope out of this great law. Sit still and die. 
Press on and win. The perils of this time come 
from our haste. We sacrifice every thing for speed. 
Speed is a good thing, if not purchased at too high a 
price. It pays to wait for good foundations. A few 
weeks of time and a few scores of piles, and the 
application of a little scientific knowledge in the 
single transaction of building one government 
building in this country, would have saved to the 
government enough to have founded a great uni- 
versity, and educated a thousand engineers a year 
for all time to come. We are in too great haste 
for results. Mushrooms may mature in a night, 
but the cedars of Lebanon grow for fifteen centuries." 



30 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

It is a law of our nature that every man can excel 
in his vocation, and a steadfast principle in business 
that every man can succeed in his calling. Do not, 
then, stand on the brink of some desired enterprise, 
shivering and trembling, but boldly plunge in and 
breast the waves. You may not achieve all that has 
crowned the efforts of some men ; but you can dare 
to do all that becomes a man. It is urged, there are 
no vacant places. True, there is a great press of 
people down stairs, but there is plenty of room up 
stairs. There are more first-class places than there 
are first-class men to fill them. The world is a rigid 
world, but in the long run it is an eminently just 
one. It never needed men worse than to-day. It is 
seeking for worthy men to bestow its honors on. 
The times are sifting the candidates more rigorously 
than ever before. All the business thoroughfares are 
crowded, but the great mass of men are getting up 
some new patent process by which to overreach for- 
tune; or they are taking some short cut to success, 
while the few who stick to the old beaten road are 
distancing all their competitors. 

Whatever you do, do it well. You need not be shy 
of your ambition : the world respects the man who is 
trying to make something out of himself. Let your 
aspirations out, and give your inspiration full play. 
Be strictly honest ; be above a mean act ; be con- 
scientious. Be pleasant with your superiors ; be 
polite to your inferiors ; be a gentleman. Read the 
newspapers ; read good books ; read the Bible. 
Advertise your business ; deal with dispatch ; pay 



SUCCESS A SLOW GROWTH. 31 

your debts; don't idle; don't smoke; don't chew; 
don't swear ; don't drink. Cultivate self-assertion : 
blow your own trumpet, to a moderate degree. Be 
as the Lord commanded Joshua, "very courageous." 
Pattern your morals after the world's model, the 
Nazarene. Concentrate your energies upon one aim. 
Never permit "give up" a place in your vocabulary. 
Work hard ; be patient ; hope for the best ; and if 
you fail to reach the goal of your aspirations, you 
will possess the proud consciousness of having done 
your best, which, after all, is the noblest " success in 
life." The highest praise bestowed by the Great 
Master was, " She hath done what she could." 





Gtfyoict of a ^rofcggtim. 



Be what nature intended you for, and you will succeed. — 
Sidney Smith. 

The roughest road often leads to the smoothest fortune. — 
Franklin. 

The parent who does not teach his child a trade, teaches him 
to be a thief. — Brahminical Scriptures. 

In every work that he began .... he did it with all his 
heart, and prospered. — 2 Chron. xxxi, 21. 

Although men are accused for not knowing their own weak- 
ness, yet perhaps as few know their own strength. It is in men 
as in soils, where there is sometimes a vein of gold which the 
owner knows not of. — Swift. 





CHAPTER II. 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 




HE choice of a profession, as a necessity to 
success, is based upon two fundamental prin- 
ciples, one of which is, that he who will not labor 
shall not eat. This is so immutable that every 
man is compelled either to work or to worry. 
There is no value which has not become such 
through labor. There is no achievement dispro- 
portioned to the effort spent upon it. There is no 
life through which mankind is better or happier 
which has not wrought its beneficence through 
patient endeavor. All that we call progress — 
whether civilization or art, education or prosperity — 
from the culture of a barley -stalk to the construc- 
tion of a steamship; from the sculpturing of a statue 
to the perfecting of a man— depends on labor. 
Activity is the cradle in which God rocks the uni- 
verse. All that gives peace and all that secures joy 
springs from hard, honest labor. 

There are profounder reasons, then, for choosing a 

3 33 



34 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

profession than simply the getting of bread. We are 
here, and we are men. We have our way to make 
through more than mere animal life. We are 
responsible in proportion to our possibilities. He 
who hides his talent will assuredly pay the penalty. 
There is no discharge in this war of life till the end 
come. ; > If you seek contentment and rest, it is only 
to be found in the grave, and Beecher's answer to 
the novice who wrote him, desiring an easy place, 
suits you. " Young man," said he, " I have thought 
over your case thoroughly, and know of no place 
for you but in Greenwood. There nothing will 
ever trouble you but the worms." Charles Lamb 
sighed for years to be freed from his arduous 
duties in the India Office. When at last released, 
he bounded out into the world like an uncaged 
bird. " I would not go back to my prison," he 
exclaimed to a friend, " for ten thousand pounds a 
year. I am free! I am free! Positively, the best 
thing a man can do is nothing." Before three years 
had fled, a change came o'er the spirit of his dream. 
Though toasted and toadied to by his ardent 
admirers, he found that his slavery at the desk was 
a blessing compared with " nothing to do." To escape 
from despair, and stop the mind from preying on 
itself, he gladly bound himself out to labor again. 
Too much leisure is the black spirit that has 
ruined the life of many a noble man. " An idle 
brain is the devil's workshop." 

The second principle, making it a necessity that 
there should be choice made of a profession, is that 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 35 

each person has a natural aptitude for some calling. 
A mistake in choosing a calling is the cause of 
more failures than any other one thing. Many 
drift into a business by force of surrounding cir- 
cumstances ; some by the advice of solicitous friends, 
or, as is too often the case, impelled by their own 
ambitious promptings. We should be surprised at 
many getting on as well as they do, working out- 
side of the harness nature made for them, did we 
not have such great confidence in the efficacy of 
pluck and perseverance. But what a" toilsome jour- 
ney do they make of it, rowing against the current 
of nature ! Only sheer necessity drives them on. 
They live and die dissatisfied with their lot, never 
suspecting the true cause. One-half the labor 
expended, if put into the channel of their natural 
tendencies, might have brought them gratifying 
success, and crowned them with a peaceful life. 
Men, under the spur of discontent, often leave their 
adopted calling to seek one more profitable ; but, 
having taken their departure, on they drive from 
bad to worse, until what little chance they had to 
succeed in something dies away. Then they lament 
their fate, and, quite likely, look with jealousy and 
sourness on those about them. Thus, the world is 
becoming filled with these unfortunates. They have 
violated the law of their organization ; they have 
under -estimated their vocation and over- strained 
their capacity. The physicians are right : more men 
are killed by worry than by work. And if many 
die through an over-reach in avarice, many also die 



36 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

through an under-reach in ability. It is the con- 
sciousness of being, incompetent to hold the wheel 
of life that sends despair to the hearts of men. If 
all this blundering is to be remedied, vocations must 
be chosen adapted to men's capacities. The laws 
of being are so adjusted and ordered as to make 
this compulsory. On no other basis can we build 
lofty and well-founded hope. 

It is a very common thing to see an ambitious 
father educate his son for the law, fondly anticipating 
the day in which he shall rival William M. Evarts, 
when really he has no more penchant for Blackstone 
than Edwards, the naturalist, had for the Scotch 
pedagogue. Another boy is guided by his father 
into the cutting of hoop-poles and the cleaving of 
shingles, when his dexterity in opening up knotty 
questions, his ability in making the worse appear 
the better cause, and his ineradicable disposition 
never to know when he is whipped, all indicate 
that he was intended to control the judgments of 
a jury. There are pastors breaking the bread 
of life with feeble hands, confessedly additional 
burdens on the groaning walls of Zion, who freely 
acknowledge their inability to awake slumbering 
souls to righteousness ; but with a devotedness 
and self- sacrifice worthy of Divine commiseration, 
they decide it to be their duty to go on. As car- 
penters, they might frame a house so that "the 
whole body would be fitly framed together and com- 
pacted by that which every joint supplieth;" but as 
builders for God they are failures. There are men 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 37 

selling goods who ought to be preachers ; horse- 
shoers who could better diagnose the patients 
infirmity ; teachers who should be journalists ; and 
plowers of land who by nature were adapted to 
break soil in the tough field of thought. 

The number of men who, all their life-time, have 
been warring with natural impulses is immense. We 
have men and women, of every calling and character, 
who, with chagrin, are eyeing their rivals as they scale 
the cliffs of honor, w 7 hile they plod along over painful 
levels. Not only have they committed a fraud on 
their worthy occupation ; they have crowded out those 
who might have become winners. "If you choose 
to represent the various parts of life," says Sidney 
Smith, "by holes in a table, of different shapes — 
some circular, some triangular, some square, some 
oblong — and the persons acting these parts, by bits 
of wood of similar shapes, we shall generally find 
that the triangular person has got into the square 
hole, the oblong one into the triangular, while the 
square person has squeezed himself into the round 
hole." 

True, there are some persons of such splendid 
talents, such practical genius, that they shine in any 
undertaking. Franklin was a good type-setter, fore- 
man and editor, as well as a great philosopher. So 
was Horace Greeley. Robert Collyer was a good 
blacksmith and is a famous preacher. John Dolland, 
the silk-weaver, gained a seat among the scientific by 
his invention of the achromatic telescope. Winckel- 
man, the shoemaker, by his antiquarian researches, 



38 SUCCESS IJST LIFE. 

enriched the world ; and Edwards (mentioned before 
in this chapter), another shoemaker, shows a most 
enviable entomological record, poking into every nook 
and cranny, and wading all day long, waist-deep, for 
bugs and worms. Agassiz is said, by Albert Barnes, to 
have been master of five special departments of 
science. But while a few men of unflagging energies 
and double genius have mastered more than one 
calling — working for bread with the right hand and 
following their souls desire with the left — it does 
not by any means follow that all can do so. Many 
of these men, even, might have attained still greater 
results by less divided effort. At any rate, the old 
adage, " Jack of all trades and master of none," is not 
to be scorned. 

It is not often a professional man is required to 
perform manual labor. In fact, society has come to 
such a pass that if he works at a trade, he is pro- 
nounced a failure. Occasionally, an unusually ener- 
getic man may do so without provoking much 
remark. The prevalence of this censorship is unfor- 
tunate, for the straits to which professional men are 
often driven for support are distressing. There are 
very few who possess courage enough to lay aside 
their professional pride, and pour forth the sweat of 
their brow for bread and butter. And yet in that 
very humiliation many men have found the discipline 
that enabled them to triumph. "There is no more 
fatal error," says Hugh Miller, " into which a working- 
man can fall than the mistake of deeming himself too 
good for his humble employments, and yet it is a 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 39 

mistake as common as it is fatal. I had already seen 
several poor, wrecked mechanics, who, believing 
themselves to be poets, and regarding- the manual 
occupation by which alone they could live in inde- 
pendence beneath them, had become, in consequence, 
little better than mendicants, too good to work for 
their bread, but not too good virtually to beg it; and 
looking upon them as beacons of warning, I deter- 
mined that with God's help, I should give their error 
a wide offing., and never associate the idea of mean- 
ness with that of an honest calling, or deem myself 
too good to be independent.'*' 

Herschel was a musician, and followed this business 
for a living until his fame as an astronomer compelled 
him to retire from the pursuit. He played the oboe 
at Bath, and while the dancers were resting, he would 
go out and take a peep at the heavens through his 
telescope, and quietly return to his work again. 
While thus a player for bread, and a scientist in his 
leisure hours, he discovered the Georgium Sidus. His 
abilities were at once conceded, and a livelihood 
ceased to be the chief object of his life. The stars 
gave their interpreter a better support than the 
dancing-room. The oboe-player was called away from 
his wind-instrument to teach the world astronomy. 

An honest and vigorous nature will make itself felt 
in any vocation. "It is perfectly indifferent," says 
Goethe, "within what circle an honest man acts, 
provided he do but know how to understand and fill 
out that circle." But great talents alone can not fill 
out that circle. When Sir Joshua Reynolds said, 



40 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

''What one man has done any man can do," and that 
"there is no limit to the proficiency of an artist except 
the limit of his own painstaking," he was certainly 
feeling the moving of his own mighty powers rather 
than observing the character and fate of men about 
him. 

It is not necessary to possess shining talents. Of 
course one wants to be supported by a strong, original 
bias, if he aspires to be master, as thinker, or artist, 
or actor: so strong, that every other work were pur- 
gatory to him, and this, though followed through 
pinching poverty, were paradise itself. But,especially 
in the money-getting lines, a clever turn in some 
direction, backed by good shrewd sense, is the great 
requirement. In most departments of life a manful 
performance of duty brings the surest reward. "If 
a boy is not clever," says Arnold, " this is a hint 
from Nature to the parents not to assign him a path 
of life where superlative excellence is required, with 
a view to success, but to find him an avocation amid 
the 

"'Girdles of the middle mountains, happy realms of fruit 

and flower; 
Distant'from ignoble weakness, distant from the heights 
of power.' 

If the parents arrogate the right to determine the 
profession for their child, they will often find them- 
selves in great difficulty, especially with that child 
who shows no remarkable predilection for any 
employment. Parents commit a great crime when, 
thinking the child a fool, they do not hesitate to tell 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 41 

him so. If a son is found not to be doing well in any 
particular walk of life, that is simply a sign that there 
is some other walk in life in which he will probably 
do exceedingly well." An English father found that 
his son was a great failure as a midshipman. He 
began at once to study the bent of the boy's mind, and 
concluded he would make a lawyer, and as a lawyer 
he rose to the top of his profession. 

All admit that to some degree circumstances shape 
the man. We can all point to persons within the 
circle of our acquaintance who would have been 
Catholics at Rome, Mohammedans at Constantinople, 
and Buddhists at Pekin. " Have not the raw breezes 
from snow-clad heights ever been held an inspiration 
to the soul of liberty?" Have not the rays of an 
equatorial sun been the smith that forged the chains 
of slavery ? Is not the agriculturist most frequently 
reared on his own soil ? Is not the sailor often born 
beside the heaving expanse which he chooses for a 
home ? All the differences of character or capacity 
can not be explained by the action of extraneous 
influences, yet we are forced to admit that mind and 
heart are always moulded, to a degree, by surround- 
ing circumstances. 

There is a magical action and reaction of minds 
on one another. Contact with the good never fails 
to bless ; contact with the impure never fails to 
blight. Sir Peter Lely made it a rule never to look 
at a bad picture. He said his pencil always caught 
a taint if he did. There are critical moments in the 
life when impressions are made that give color to all 



42 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

subsequent actions. The mind of every youth is 
peering into the future with fermenting solicitude — 
he is anxiously waiting for the impregnating idea 
that shall fertilize it. He has been tied down to the 
routine of some dull pursuit, but is now beginning to 
feel the throbbings of a new being. As yet, he knows 
not which way to go. The supreme moment of his 
life has arrived when he reads the biography of some 
Hercules, whose inviting footprints are laid bare to 
the top of glory ; or in forming the acquaintance of 
some man eminent in the life toward which his 
waking powers are blindly staggering. It is for art, 
and he forms the friendship of an artist ; it is for 
engineering, and some engineer takes a liking to him 
because he is apt ; it is for letters, and some literary 
man gives him the freedom of his library ; it is for 
merchandising, and a merchant, thinking he would 
make a good clerk, employs him : these are all recog- 
nitions that form a crisis in the life. " I have traveled 
much," says Lord Shelburne, ' : but I have never been 
so influenced by personal contact with any man ; and 
if ever I accomplish any good in the course of my 
life, I am certain that the recollection of M. de 
Malesherbes will animate my soul." 

Thus it was with Haydn ; Handel recreated him 
the first time he played in his presence. Haydn 
burned with an insatiable desire for music after this, 
and but for this circumstance, he himself believed 
that he would never have written the " Creation." 
Scarlatti was another of Handel's offspring. He 
followed him all over Italy, and generously said his 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION, 43 

brush had been tipped by Handel. Scanderbeg, 
Prince of Epirus, had so inspired the Turks by his 
valor that, when dead, they wished to possess his 
bones, hoping to receive some of the courage he 
possessed while living. Douglass bore the heart of 
Bruce with him on the crusades. On seeing a knight 
surrounded by the Saracens, he threw the hero's 
heart into the thickest of the fight, crying, " Pass first 
in fight, as thou wert wont to do, and Douglass will 
follow thee or die ! " 

Correggio discovered himself in the biography of 
Michael Angelo, and as he felt his soul to be en 
rapport with that of the artist, he exclaimed, " And 
I too am a painter." Benjamin Franklin early read 
Cotton Mather's book, " Essays to do Good." This 
made such a profound impression on his youthful 
mind that he found himself continually repeating 
its maxims. In late years he pronounced those 
essays to be the father of all his usefulness. Samuel 
Drew avers that he caught inspiration from Franklin, 
and moulded his morals and business habits from 
Franklin. One reading of " Plutarch's Lives" drew 
forth a passion from Alfieri which made him dedicate 
his life to literature. When Ignatius Loyola was 
lying wounded after a severe battle, he asked for a 
book to read. " The Lives of the Saints" was given 
him. Its perusal aroused a religious "calm" in his 
mind ; he determined to forsake the ambitions of 
war; and, in the abjectest poverty and humility, he 
devoted himself to the church, founding a religious 
order. The " Life and Writings of John Huss" drove 



44 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Martin Luther into the Reformation. Sir Joshua 
Reynolds attributes his first impulse toward art to 
reading Richardson's account of a great painter. 
Hoydon was aroused to the same pursuit by after- 
ward reading the career of Reynolds as an artist. 

These illustrations do not assert that mere admira- 
tion for "great genius" is all that is necessary to call 
out the powers of a new life. Admiration alone can 
not make a creditable imitation of any model. 
And imitation is not greatness. No mere imitator can 
build a lasting success. One may form the acquaint- 
ance of a score of eminent men, and not have a single 
impulse aroused; he may read a hundred biographies, 
and never have his soul touched. It is all because 
none of these find a kindred character within. But 
when the heroism of these actors dawns upon the 
senses, and, striking the chords of the soul, finds a 
response there, then it is that that acquaintance is 
the fortuitous circumstance of that life. Then the 
potencies of the soul are evolved — the possibilities of 
the character are revealed, and the man takes the 
place for which his natural abilities have fitted him. 
If, however, you should find that all the studies of 
biography and the companionship of rising men fail 
to start you on the highway of fame, take with 
unabated energy the humbler route assigned you, 
do with all your might what falls to your lot, and 
do it with grace and lofty countenance; for this itself 
is a rare token of true manhood. 

Fortunately for the world, many. of her most gifted 
children possessed a genius that never forsook them. 






CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 45 

They were superior to circumstances. They did not 
wait for some one to arouse them. They came into 
being quick and hot for action. The boy West, at 
seven years of age, struck by the beauty of a sleeping 
infant he was rocking, forthwith seized paper and 
drew its portrait in red and black ink. Richard 
Wilson's sport when a boy was to slip into the hall 
up stairs and draw figures of men and horses on the 
wall with the charred end of a stick. Gainsborough 
would run off from school at the age of ten, and go 
sketching in the woods of Sudbury. Hogarth was 
distressingly dull in his school studies, and his exer- 
cises on the blackboard and slate were more noted for 
their embellishments than for the examples them- 
selves. John Quincy Adams made good speeches at 
the age of seven. Audubon loved the birds and 
"took to the woods" irresistibly. These boys gave 
early premonitions of their coming art. And who will 
say that to have curbed them would not have dwarfed 
them? " It is said that when Rachel, the actress," 
writes Prof. Mathews, " threw a table-cloth round her 
person, she was draped on the instant with a becom- 
ingness which all the modistes that ever fractured 
stay-lace, or circumlocuted crinoline, never imparted 
to the female figure before. She had a genius for it, 
as Brummell had for tying his cravat. Thousands 
choked themselves in trying to imitate the Beau's 
knot but in vain; the secret died with him, and is 
now among the lost arts." 

But in the most of persons "natural selection" is 
not so strong that it will override all barriers, and 



46 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

lead them from infancy. The fact is, the great mass 
of men are never stirred by strong promptings in 
any direction. The thousands stand at the opening 
of the ways, with vacant eyes and heavy hands, like 
Micawber, waiting for something to turn up. For 
these we write. To be successful, one must search 
out his natural inclinations and obey them. Deeply 
hidden, they may be, under the rubbish your sur- 
roundings have heaped on you, but down there, 
latent, lies an inborn predisposition that is able 
to carry you to success, in spite of caste, or igno- 
rance, or poverty. 

It has been said that there is no such thing as 
natural aptitude; that circumstances and education 
decide every man's fate. Buffon, that prodigy of 
energy, says, " Genius is patience;" but then he was 
modestly writing his own autobiography. Carlyle 
says, "Nature has not set any man in molds;" that 
every man could write poetry if he liked — and then 
explains for himself by saying he doesn't like poetry. 
Pope and Bryant must have liked poetry, for they 
wrote, at sixteen, articles that Thomas Carlyle, 
with all his splendid talents and wealth of imagi- 
nation, has not surpassed at seventy. Chesterfield, 
who was bent on polishing men, said you could 
cultivate a man into any thing. He lavished patient 
years in trying to train his son, Stanhope, into 
agreeable manners, and was finally compelled to 
leave him miserably rude. Cultivation could no more 
make Stanhope a gentleman than want of it could 
make Chesterfield a clown. This plea fails, especially 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 47 

when we find disposition asserted before education, 
and in opposition to all training. West was not 
educated as an artist ; he did not so much as have 
the benefit of paintings on the wall. The father 
of Pascal undertook to give him a purely literary 
education, avoiding the exact sciences ; but the boy 
stole away and drew conic sections on the ground, 
and had mastered Euclid to the 3 2d proposition 
before his father discovered it. Dryden revealed his 
own steps, as well as those of many others, when 
he wrote : 

"What the child admired, 
The youth endeavored, and the man acquired" 

"We are not surprised," says a writer, " to hear from 
a schoolfellow of the Chancellor Somers that he was 
a weakly boy, who always had a book in his hand, 
and never looked up at the play of his companions ; 
to learn from his affectionate biographer that Ham- 
mond, at Eton, sought opportunities of stealing away 
to say his prayers ; to read that Tournefort forsook 
his college class that he might search for plants in 
the neighboring fields ; or that Smeaton, in petti- 
coats, was discovered on the top of his father's barn, 
in the act of fixing the model of a windmill which he 
had constructed. These early traits of character are 
such as we expect to find in the cultivated lawyer 
who turned the eyes of his age upon Milton; in the 
Christian whose life was one varied strain of devout 
praise; in the naturalist who enriched science by his 



48 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

discoveries; and in the engineer who built the 
Eddystone lighthouse." 

We are all able frequently to read a man's char- 
acter with reasonable accuracy by watching his 
actions and noting his slightest tendencies. It is no 
more true of men than it is in natural history, that 
" the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious 
jewel in its head." There is structural harmony in 
the whole physical man, as there is in the intellectual. 
Nature does not deal in paradoxes; she coins men 
of different metals, and puts her mint stamp upon 
them, that they may pass current at their true value 
among the observant. Men of keen sight and 
judgment read their fellows as they would read the 
open pages of a book. This faculty is enjoyed by 
all leaders of men. 

The proclivities of the mind may be strong though 
latent; and the greater in that case becomes the 
necessity for careful inspection. It calls for the skill 
of the examiner. He may search long before he 
concludes upon any special merit, but there is a 
bonanza somewhere in every man. There is no man 
who may not excel in some pursuit. Don't let 
ambition dictate it ; don't seek a business because it 
is creditable. Better be the king of fish -peddlers 
than a blatant politician who is searching after 
undying fame, and whose only conception of success 
is office ; who is too indolent to work ; who affects to 
be a servant of the people; whose poverty forces him 
to live on bread and water between elections, and 
" sponge " on his friends during the canvass ; a con- 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 49 

firmed mendicant, without energy or grace, whose 
friendship is valueless, and whose name is Political 
Tramp. Whatever nature intended you for, that be ; 
and be proud that she intended you for something. 
It may be to run the biggest trade in your com- 
munity, or it may be to climb tarred rope; but do it 
with all your might, and there's victory in it. 

No man can be said to have a natural bias for a 
pursuit he dislikes ; and to learn to love it is a thing 
impossible. A great work was never any thing short 
of a labor of love to him that accomplished it. The 
sentiment, " Our wishes are presentiments of our 
capabilities," is a truthful maxim, and full of encour- 
agement. If the reigning passion of the mind can 
be gratified while obeying the duties of the profes- 
sion, there will be found in it an incentive reaching 
far toward success. The very fact that you have a 
fondness for the duties in that calling, is surety that 
you will follow it devotedly. Whenever the wishes 
become active, they will arouse all the other forces, 
and demand that something be done. If a boy longs 
for a hand-saw and hatchet, he is evidently not of the 
turn to take to belles lettres. You may cram him with 
hie, hcec, hoc, but he will only make one of those 
college professors that dare not look off his text- 
book during recitation. Another may not be able 
to saw a stick of wood off straight, and whines every 
time he takes the cow to pasture, and yet lie on 
the floor for hours at a stretch, and devour Plutarch 
and Gibbon There are many boys, who liked books 
and would have made brilliant men in some of the 



50 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

educated pursuits, that have been lashed for laziness, 
and driven to labors they scorned, until their proclivi- 
ties were all blunted, and have gone moping through 
life broken -spirited and failures; and the neighbors 
testify that they " always were worthless." The first 
step is to give the inborn wishes of the boy or man 
an opportunity to assert themselves. 

Every year an army of young men is sent forth 
from our colleges who have exhausted their means 
in procuring what is termed an education. They 
must now find some remunerating employment to 
support them. They sought the education with a 
distinct aim in view. Now, many are striving to be 
contented with a meager clerkship, or turn their 
attention to instructing in private or public schools. 
Hundreds rush to the city with the hope of becoming 
journalists, essayists or reporters. Visions of fame 
are still in the foreground, but the wolf is at their 
door. They do not seek the Press to proclaim what 
it would cost them their manhood to repress, as 
Lloyd Garrison did, but for bread and butter. Per- 
chance their culture makes it easy for them to do 
this work. But at what a disadvantage they labor ! 
They must write this matter up or that down, 
according to the arbitrary dictation of the proprietor 
They must swear by the oath of ^ the ring." Like 
the Garrick of the stage, they must be ready to regret 
or rejoice to order. They are not hewing a way for 
any vital principle. They can advocate no reform 
unless it is popular so to do. They are literary slaves. 
"Their god is their belly." Can men hope to build 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 51 * 

up an abiding interest on such a foundation ? Cer- 
tainly not. If you should ask these men they would 
freely tell you so. Nay, many of them would laugh 
at you for an unsophisticated ninny. 

No! If men would become eminent in any thing, 
let them first of all establish their right to speak 
and to do in independence. Let them labor with 
the hand or the head, but busy themselves in the 
cultivation of their manhood, bide their time and 
preserve an uncramped spirit, ready to do battle, 
ready to make peace, but always upon conditions 
honorable to all concerned. 

The mass of educated men, for the time busied 
in some humbler pursuit, scarce ever attain to the 
measure of their original plan. Perhaps no class of 
men so uniformly fail to do what they have intended 
to, and what they have prepared themselves for, as 
educated men. With some it is because they are 
too ambitious of results, and hence early become 
bankrupt of hope and retire from the field; while 
with others capacity develops for but moderate 
success, and so, failing alike of what they aim at and 
of what nature fitted them for, they daunder about 
through life, as the Scotch phrase it, or become fixed 
as square pegs in round holes. 

It is advisable to get at the life-employment as 
early as possible. There is as great liability of 
drifting into a false calling at forty as there is of 
blundering into it at twenty. Changes are hazardous. 
Better to commence business at middle age than to 
change vocations. No man ought to attempt the 



52 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

second thing if it can be avoided. However, if 
your first choice was unnatural and unprofitable, let 
it go as soon as you are assured of this. But be 
cautious of your mood when you break holds. If 
despondent, stick till a better spell prevails. Judg- 
ment is always biased when the shadows gather 
about one. Any thing, then, will seem more inviting 
than what you are at. Follow your old business, 
hopefully, while prospecting for the new. " A bird in 
the hand is worth two in the bush." Take the mat- 
of change, then, into long, earnest consideration, 
and do not act until, like Davy Crockett, you are 
" sure you are right, then go ahead." 

Let time be given to choice. Every scholar can 
master one class of studies more easily than 
another. One will take to grammar, rhetoric or his- 
tory with greediness, leaving his algebra and 
geometry, unconsciously, to the last moment. 
Geology is loved by another, and he stores away 
every new specimen with increasing delight. One 
drops Latin, but turns to natural philosophy only 
with redoubled energy, making himself at home 
with every law which governs motion. While 
another reads his physiology over once, closes the 
book, examines the physical structure of every 
animal he meets, doses the cat with pills of his own 
compounding, and because, by sheer accident, she dies, 
placidly improvises a dissecting-room out of the back 
kitchen, and thus further engages in the pursuit of 
anatomy. These are the first efforts of nature as 
self- instructor. They are the inklings of the coming 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 53 

man. All will find, by referring to their school days, 
some predominant inclination. Nor are we going 
to concede to the reader that in his or his friends 
instance it was clear mischief. Mischief there may 
have been, but that was misdirected energy. And 
often when the preceptor played the Rogue's March, 
with a tattoo of the ferule over the shoulders, he 
would better have been engaged in studying "bent" 
and shaping it. Based, then, on this bent, you will 
find a love for those after things in life to which your 
predeterminations hold relationship. 

Observe your inclinations from early youth. 
Whither tend they ? Strong dislikes augur strong 
likes. What science or art or handicraft do you 
take to most readily? Pay but little attention to 
the ambitions of friends or relatives. Pay a rever- 
ential regard to any one who seeks to show your 
fitness for a pursuit. Do like Lyman Beecher, 
" Study Nature." Study surroundings. Study 
demand. Study to fill your sphere. And for this 
do not hurry. You can only take Time itself by the 
forelock as you take time to do it. But some men 
are quite unable to estimate their own ability. 
They can no more gauge their capacities than they 
can hold themselves out at arm's length by the 
coat collar, or lift themselves from the ground by 
the straps of their boots. Such had better seek 
wise counsel, and follow it. 

Having chosen your occupation, begin at once to 
shape yourself for it. Hold it fast in your mind's 
eye. Photograph it on your heart. By day and by 



54 SUCCfiSS IN LIFE. 

night meditate upon its characteristics. Is it still at 
a distance? — pursue it through flood and flame. 
Let no poverty prevent ; let no care, let no charm, 
lead you to break faith with it. Speaking in a secular 
sense, it is your Jerusalem, toward which you are to 
look and to pray thrice daily. It is your Caaba 
stone, to which you are to make pilgrimage, and 
which you are to kiss. 

The choice made and labor once begun, the first 
great struggle of life is over. You have already 
achieved what half of mankind never achieve. 
Now seek for opportunity, but be blind to obstacles, 
or, if you see them, kick them aside. " Love laughs 
at locksmiths : " so, a soul full of set purpose laughs 
at difficulties, and molds or creates circumstances 
to his need. 

" When Joseph Wright, at the age of eighteen," 
says Mother Rawlings, " decided to become a lawyer, 
he was penniless and almost friendless. While 
obtaining an education and studying for the law, he 
was compelled to earn his bread. During Summer 
he worked in the brickyards, reading early and late. 
After taking meals, he would study until the hands 
were almost at the kiln, when he would close his 
book and run to be there on time. In Winter he 
attended school, and did odd jobs to pay his board. 
In all his hardships he never lost faith in his star. 
Once, at the Spring exercises, when Wright had been 
chosen to deliver an oration, the professor, after 
reading it, decided it was not worthy of the occasion. 
Wright felt that to fail here was to wreck a life, and 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 55 

he determined to speak, so informing the professor. 
On the rostrum, that night, among the other per- 
formers sat Wright, clad in jeans and pale with 
determination. His speech was pronounced the 
ablest of the evening. He became a successful 
lawyer. The convention that first nominated him 
for Congress met in the Court-House, the brick of 
which he had off- borne, burned, and carried in a hod 
to the masons. He afterward became Governor of 
Indiana. When Minister to Berlin, his fellow-towns- 
jrten of Bloomington sent him two bricks taken from 
the old Court-House. They were presented to him 
in the presence of diplomats and princes at a levee. 
As he held the treasure in his hands, he exclaimed 
that it was the humblest and yet the proudest 
moment of his life." 

Finally, it will take many years to reach the 
success you wish, if you put your aim as high as you 
ought to put it. They are the years of labor and 
waiting that try men's souls. The genuine philoso- 
pher in life is the man that finds in each duty done, 
each day's labor well performed, an all-sufficient satis- 
faction and remuneration, and though he never reach 
the objective pinnacle called success, is therewith 
content. It is easy to lie in bed of mornings and 
dream of glory ; there is no difficulty while there to 
map out a life of activity and see yourself climbing 
to the top round. But to turn out at five o'clock and 
work hard all day for years, and distance every rival 
by simple uprightness and perseverance, is another 
thing. It is not strange that many men when they 



56 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

come to essay this task, forsake it after a few years 
for an easier place and less wages. Especially if 
your calling is one where great eminence or wealth 
may be obtained will you find advancement to be 
slow of step. The bonanzas in the professions are 
like those in the precious metals — it takes the 
longest and deepest digging to reach theme Having 
once placed your hand on the plow, never look back 
unless failing health or an event over which you 
have no control compel iff 

Whatever your calling may be, do not affect to 
despise it. A man could with as good grace despise 
his mother as hate the pursuit nature intended him 
for. Do not belittle your business by berating it in 
the presence of others. There is a peculiar relation- 
ship existing between a man and his business and 
the world soon comes to look on the representative 
of the business in the same light that he speaks of 
the business. Become impressed with the value 
of your occupation. Study its relationship to the 
various departments of industry. Look upon it as 
an important link in the chain. Make it a swivel if 
you can ; at any rate, honor it. Remember, you have 
passed through espousals, and are now wedded. 
Preserve your chastity with it ; and when you are 
blessed by its profits and its joys, welcome them as a 
legitimate posterity. 

With our democratic principles no man need hang 
down his head because of humble pursuits. All 
people whose respect is worth any thing regard a 
man for himself and not because of his family or 



CHOICE OF A PROFESSION. 57 

profession. It is the man who makes the business, 
and if any undertaking has no man behind it, of how- 
frail a texture is it ! 'Broidered gold and lace can 
not compensate for such lack. 

" Worth makes the man, and want of it, the fellow; 
The rest is all but leather or prunella." 

Cesare Borgia was a croziered prelate, but his life 
of poisoning and plunder consigned him to the scorn 
of all good men. Nero was one of Rome's emperors, 
but his inhuman life singled him out as the repre- 
sentative fiend for all coming ages. Caste is dying, 
and neither crowns nor carriages can of themselves 
give dignity : the man must dignify the deed. 
President Lincoln was often referred to sneeringly 
by his rivals as " the rail-splitter," but his energy and 
courage both as a boy and a man have done more to 
inspire confidence in the bosoms of poor and friend- 
less youth than all the politicians whose aristocratic 
influence has given them a seat in the parliaments of 
mankind. Homer was a poor, wandering ballad- 
monger on the shores of Greece, whose misfortunes 
were mollified by the verses he poured forth from his 
soul. His music has floated on every air, through 
each succeeding age, while his heroic lines have 
inspired the great and enriched the literature of 
nations. 




3Economg of 3Iittu* 



Think'st thou existence doth depend on time? 

It doth ; but actions are our epochs : mine 

Have made my days and nights imperishable, 

Endless, and all alike. 

— Byron: Manfred. 

Dost thou love life ? then do not squander time, for that is 
the stuff life is made of. — Franklin. 








«^y^jM|iJMM 




WIm^SPi 


SSl 



C H APTE R III. 



ECONOMY OF TIME. 




HE lame and weakly little Nelson was wont 
to call time his estate. He considered it 
inheritance enough, and thought if its moments 
were properly husbanded he could gain all needed 
riches. " I owe all my success in life," he once said, 
"to having been always a quarter of an hour before 
my time." Some take no thought of the value of 
time until they come to its close. The hours are 
allowed to flow by unemployed, and then, when life is 
fast waning, they bethink themselves of the duty of 
making a wiser use of it. But habits of list- 
lessness and idleness, once confirmed, are not easily 
thrown off, and the man who permits the seed-time 
of his years to pass unsown, can only in the autumn 
of his life reap a harvest of remorse and poverty. 
Lost wealth may be replaced by industry, lost knowl- 
edge by study, lost health by temperance or medi- 
cine ; but lost time is gone forever. 

The man who is habitually behind time, is 
habitually behind success. An unpunctual man 



60 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

never accomplishes what he desires to ; he is sys- 
tematically late; he arrives at his appointment after 
time ; he gets to the depot just as the train has 
started ; posts his letter one minute after the box 
has closed ; and old age finds him just as he has 
turned a new leaf and resolved thereafter to be 
punctual. Lord Chesterfield wittily said of the 
Duke of Newcastle: " His Grace loses an hour in 
the morning, and is looking for it all the rest of 
the day." It is a matter of true conscientiousness 
to be on time with every duty. 

Successful military men have all been noted for 
their regard of time. General Grant was never 
known to get out of patience with an officer unless 
he was behind time. Even the quiet and slow 
Washington said to a late secretary, who laid the 
blame upon his watch : " You must get another 
watch, or I another secretary." The fate of an 
army, and sometimes of a nation, has hung on the 
movements of an hour. Bonaparte once felt that 
the morrow's battle hung on utter darkness in his 
camp at nine o'clock, so that the enemy would not 
suspect any preparations for the coming contest. 
When the bugle sounded nine, the little Corsican, 
with that eye which must see to every detail, blew out 
his candle over an important order half written, 
and, stepping to his door, peered into the darkness 
for obedience. He saw one tent with a light. He 
hurried to it, entered unannounced, and found a 
brave officer penning a last sentence to his wife. 
The delinquent made a confused explanation of 



ECONOMY OF TIME. 61 

the circumstance. Bonaparte heard him in sorrow; 
but obedience was of more value to France than 
love. "Add a postscript," commanded the imperial 
voice, and say: 'I die at sunrise for disobedience 
of orders.'" 

Not one of all the stereotyped excuses for failure 
is called so often to men's lips as the lack of time. 
Men feeling the movings of aspiration to do some- 
thing in the world worthy of themselves, long to 
place their feet in the tracks of a Xavier or Hum- 
boldt ; but, alas! for want of education or wealth, 
they are not able to do so. They read how Adam 
Clarke and Davy toiled from ignorance up to the 
very summit of knowledge and ability to help their 
fellows ; but to earn a living for a wife and one 
child takes them from seven until six, and every 
waking moment is so fully engrossed that they 
have no time to read and study. Hundreds of 
men are plodding through life without a book in 
their house, or newspaper, or ever hearing a lecture, 
because they have no time for such things. 

These are the men who never get above the 
wealth or the wages with which they started in life. 
They are the men who make incendiary speeches in 
that valuable organization, " The Workingmen's 
Union," and lead mobs to fire cities and depredate 
on capital. They put their blind, insensate muscle 
against the progress of to-day, that demands muscle 
mixed with brains. Rest and recreation are neces- 
sary to the best use of our powers. A steam engine 
must rest, and even a Great Eastern occasionally 



62 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

goes into dock to be touched up during a resting- 
spell. The men who are so near-sighted that they 
can see no success except in straightforward, unre- 
mitting work, will only have their labor for their 
pains, for the shrewd, cultured fellows, who have 
expanded their wits and enlarged their mental 
muscle by the recreation of study and society, will 
bear down on them sooner or later, and get away 
with their rusty savings. 

Select your men from the farm or office who have 
made the most money and done the most good — 
the men who carry the business of half a dozen 
men on their shoulders ; who have hundreds of 
employes ; who do not have an idle day once in a 
year ; men who, their friends and physicians say, are 
going to kill themselves at business, and yet they 
smile and work on, and die vigorous at eighty. 
These are the men who find time to attend Relief 
Societies ; who have leisure to hear political speeches 
and scientific lectures ; who read the newspapers ; 
who have large libraries, every book of which they 
can tell you something about; who were never so 
busy but they could stop and chat pleasantly with 
a friend for five minutes. Two of the wealthiest 
merchants of Chicago, driving a business of mill- 
ions, are never absent from prayer-meeting, or an 
official meeting of their clubs or lodges. 

The capacity to do is largely measured by what 
is being done. One man requires a whole day to 
saw a cord of wood, and positively has no time for 
any thing else; another will saw and split it in a 



ECONOMY OF TIME. 63 

• -* ,r 

day, will whistle at his work, brush himself up after 
supper, and read an hour. In some families where 
there are but two, the wife is always behind with 
her work ; in others the woman with six children 
will do all her work, be dressed up in the after- 
noon, read, call, and have plenty of time for any 
thing that demands extra care. The reason is these 
people are in the habit of doing. Their blood 
finds no stagnating corners in all their systems. 
Their activity drives it from the lurking places, and 
sends it whirling on its appointed way. The whole 
forces of their organism are aroused ; every muscle 
is put into action ; their conceptions become far- 
reaching and acute; they are able to utilize every 
square inch of power within them. Thus, they 
have an accelerated capacity for execution. Then, 
there is a momentum in the active man which, of 
itself, almost carries him to his mark, just as a little 
steam on the driving- piston will keep the train 
agoing, when a strong blast was necessary to give 
it a start. 

The great works of the world have not been 
wrought by sudden spurts of application. True, there 
are times when Dexter makes a grand burst of speed ; 
and so every man finds himself occasionally pushing 
his work with wondrous facility. And he ought to 
make the very best of these unexplainable inspira- 
tions. But they are not to be relied on. Persistent 
effort is the only thing to be depended on, and a 
genius for that is the very best kind of genius. 

Astor laid the foundation for his millions by 



64 SUCCESS IN LIFE, 

hoarding the cents. So men like Herschel and 
Faraday have used their odd moments in reading 
or experimenting, and then hurried to their work 
with the result safely deposited in the bank of 
memory. By these gradual and almost unappreciable 
accretions, through long years have they come to 
possess the knowledge and wisdom which enabled 
them to bless the world ; while others who spent the 
same moments in careless talk, or in idle lounging, 
have been so hurried by their business that they 
have found it impossible to devote thirty minutes 
a day to self-culture. 

Many successful men have supported themselves 
during their college course by sawing wood, or other 
manual labor in the fragments of their time. Hugh 
Miller used to say that it puzzled him to know what 
his occupation really was ; for while his study gave 
his brain a living, his work in the quarry furnished 
his body a living. It matters but little from which 
source the living comes. But it is clear that if one 
can use the remnants of each day to advantage, what 
is he not able to accomplish even in them! Will 
not a man, by economizing every spare moment of a 
day, be able to obtain greater results at the end of 
ten years in his business than he could attain with- 
out culture ? Was not the wealth and lasting fame 
of Sir Humphry Davy and Sir Walter Scott built 
out of the use of their spare moments? 

Because it will take a great while to produce 
some good result, and you can not give yourself to 
it in consecutive hours, shall you therefore give it 



ECONOMY OF TIME. 65 

up altogether ? The rather be thankful that you 
are able in the parings of time to do some useful 
thing. The very thought that the bits of the 
mornings, noons, and evenings, when freed from the 
harness, are actually yours — that you are monarch 
over moments, brief though your reign may be — 
should inspire you with the determination to use 
them in a kingly way. William Cullen Bryant has 
long been tied to the onerous duties of the editorial 
chair, but he has so fully appreciated the value of 
the swiftly- flying moments of life, that, in those 
slim crevices of time available to a city editor, he 
has written a large volume of poetry, and his name 
will be borne down "the flood of years" by the 
labors of those spare moments. If the broken 
fragments of time are used more earnestly because 
of their brevity they will be the one investment of 
life that will yield a compound interest in old age. 
Young spoke a solemn truth when he said: 

"Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor; 
Part with it as with money, sparingly ; pay 
No moment but in purchase of its worth ; 
And what it 's worth, ask death-beds ; they can tell ! " 

Time is free alike to all men. The convict in the 
prison, the free laborer of the land, and the million- 
aire have fragments of time at their disposal ; and 
he who uses them to the best results is most a 
man. 

" The greatest schemes that human wit can forge, 
Or bold ambition dares to put in practice, 
Depend upon our husbanding a moment." 
5 



66 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

That young English officer who was appointed 
to a post in India gave prophecy of his future self, 
when the Ministry inquired, ''When will you be 
ready to start?" by answering, " To-morrow morn- 
ing." He afterward became Governor -General of 
India. 

There is occasionally a day when, for some cause, 
you are off duty. Make those days like "apples 
of gold in pictures of silver." Economize with ten- 
fold care such days, and in a little while you will 
come to know the wealth of time. A few years 
ago, the roof of the United States Mint, at Phila- 
delphia, was carefully swept, every crevice whisped 
with a feather, and the broom and slippers of the 
sweeper dusted. The golden dust was coined, and 
the mint had a more profitable day than for many 
months previous. In every business the wheels 
once in a while clog, and there must be a suspension 
of work for a half day or more ; then come the 
holidays. You have been letting ideas fall on your 
mind for weeks, in a confused sort of way ; now is 
your time to gather them up and ticket them away. 
Or a choice book has been laid aside because it 
demanded consecutive reading; now is the time to 
put in fifteen hours of solid study. Depend upon 
it, this is the very best of recreation, and every 
golden hour thus coined will be clear profit. There 
is more to be gained in sweeping the dusty mint 
of the mind than in whisping any other treasury 
roof in the world. 

Few persons can afford to be idle, and those few 



ECONOMY OF TIME. 67 

are irregular and spasmodic at every thing they do. 
Such "heaven -born geniuses" are a law unto them- 
selves, and must only be expected to work when 
the spirit moves them. They know no system, and 
when they came down from heaven, they forgot 
her first law. It seems to be one mark of the man 
we call a genius to be immethodical. Take Cole- 
ridge for illustration. " He passed his whole life 
out at elbows, physically and morally." He dawdled 
whole weeks away, and never found time to finish 
a single important work. He would lie in bed until 
ten, when he had a business engagement at nine. 
He would let a friend keep him laughing and talking 
till past midnight, when that very day the printers 
had stopped work because the last pages of his 
essay were not yet written. He could not even 
earn money enough to support his family. Southey 
and other friends took their hard-earned dollars 
to keep the wolf from his door, while he stalked 
over the country discoursing his transcendental 
philosophy. 

One of the very best ways of economizing time 
is to work by rule. A vast deal more can be 
accomplished in that way than by fitful efforts, how- 
ever great. Many men work by moods, and are 
run by gush, who have no genius for that way of 
doing. It is only a subterfuge in which their indo- 
lence hides to keep conscience quiet, while they 
laze away time. Give me a man who delivers 
every stroke by the tick of the clock, and I will 
have a man who knows what he can do, and who 



68 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

can do a great deal. It is strange so wise an old 
Gascon as Montaigne, should say, that " There is no 
course of life so weak as that which is carried on 
by rule and discipline ;" and stranger still that so 
acute an observer as Prof. Mathews should seem to 
agree with him. Now, I had as lief say that order 
and discipline were the weakness of an army, as to 
say that they were the weakness of a life. 

It is not necessary for a methodical man to pare 
his rule-path into " a razor s edge to walk on." 
Every good thing of the kind may be overdone, 
and become puritanical. But if one will put his 
rules within the pale of common sense, it will never 
become necessary " to cross his own rules " to keep 
from growing faint and rusty. There are some 
men so methodical they will not use a compound 
word, so precise they weigh the brown bread and 
count the beans they eat; others so unobserving 
they never know whether their wives wear silk or 
linsey ; so irregular in their habits they are as 
likely to start to their day's work at seven in the 
evening as at seven in the morning. 

After all, it remains true that much of a man's 
success depends upon his ability to systematize work, 
and so arrange it that each class of labor will take 
its place in such a way as to prove recreative. 

It is well for one to realize that life is short, 
but he must also feel that it is long enough for 
every necessary labor. Men loiter away their leisure 
hours, berating fate because she has given them 
no opportunity to become educated. Yet such a 



ECONOMY OF TIME. 69 

man as Hugh Miller, with only the rinds of the day 
at his command, found them long enough to acquire 
the knowledge on which he built a lasting fame. The 
man who will undertake nothing for fear of dying 
next year, had as well order a coffin for his man- 
hood. You must plan to live fifty years. The 
niches of the days put in studiously for half that 
time will make you a profound scholar in any ordi- 
nary branch of learning. Humboldt did not shiver 
on the brink of giant enterprises when he was 
eighty years old. 

If the spare moments of one year are husbanded 
aright, you will never again complain of the lack 
of time. Time is a secondary consideration. As 
Robert Hall used to say of early rising, that the 
real question was not what time you get up, but 
what do you do when you get up ? So, while the 
length of the time is of some consequence, the more 
important question is, How do you improve your 
time ? Many of our greatest men may thank 
heaven for making the days short and their busi- 
ness pursuits long, so that they have been com- 
pelled to dive for a ten minutes' read, like a robin 
for a worm. The appreciation of the brevity of 
the opportunity made them use the moments as 
precious jewels. After Buffon had saved the hour 
between six and seven in the morning for one year, 
in writing his history, no money could have induced 
him to return to his old habit of spending it in 
snoring. To that hour he owed the three ablest vol- 
umes of that noble work which established his fame. 



70 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

It is wonderful what results have been achieved 
in a few hours stolen from a busy life. It is 
related of a German critic that he could repeat the 
entire Iliad in Greek with scarcely an error. This 
man did not have years, nor even months, nor weeks. 
Never a single day was his own, for he was a physician 
whose practice drove him " day and night ;" but as he 
drove from one patient to another, he snatched the 
unemployed moment to commit a line or two, and thus 
in an incredibly short space of time to people who are 
hunting for leisure, his brain stereotyped the immor- 
tal verses that the old bard of Scio once needed 
to peddle on the shores of Greece for bread and 
honey. 

Sir Walter Scott was a government officer, and 
attended to his duties with rigorous exactness ; 
but write he must, and all his great novels were 
composed before breakfast. Did not Albert Barnes 
write commentaries, that have reached a sale of 
over a million copies, during the same hours ? 
Jean Paul Richter carried his note-book with him 
wherever he went, and when an idea flashed upon 
him in conversation, he noted it down at once, and 
laid it away for development at the proper time. 
Did not George Stephenson wrest hours from 
needed repose, to experiment in and revolutionize 
the commerce of the nations by it ? Did not 
Bonaparte forego the pleasures of society that he 
might devote himself to the science of war, and by 
it triumph over plebeian blood, elevating himself to 
the lonely sublimity of the " Man of Destiny?" 



ECONOMY OF TIME. 71 

When an English lord had remained over night 
at Marshfield, he remarked to Mr. Webster, the next 
morning at breakfast, that he did not want their 
proposed jaunt to interfere with his rules of study. 
"Not at all," replied Mr. Webster; "I rise at five, 
and do all my studying before breakfast, and then 
I am ready, as the case may be, for pleasure or 
duty." 

We do not recommend such unrelaxing use of 
time as will over-strain body or mind. This is as 
exhausting in its results as over-leisure. Brain- 
workers sometimes while away an hour a day, to 
the visible benefit of their thinking powers. This 
kind of idling becomes a duty to men in delicate 
health. They are compelled to have, like Pascal 
and Pope, "recuperative hours." Their frail tene- 
ments of clay need the most perfect rest, and much 
of it. To the achievement of their great works, their 
resting spells were the wisest economy of time. 
Mental or physical workers never lose any time 
by an occasional evening in society. After such 
intermissions they return to work refreshed and 
invigorated. They have broken up the monotony 
of life for a time, and go back to work with a 
better circulation of blood. No man ever gained 
time by cheating sleep, or at the sacrifice of muscle 
or brain tissue. Robust people may stand it for 
years, and perform great works ; but by and by it 
tells. Suppose they do achieve very important 
results in the overshadowing vastness of their work- 
ing hours, is it not better to husband time, and 



72 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

thereby stimulate vigor, so as to enhance the value 
of results, and, moreover, add length of days and 
happiness to their existence ? 

It is a very poor sort of economy that exhausts 
the last ounce of vital fluid in this days work, so 
that you must lie in bed to-morrow, wrapped in a 
warming-sheet, swilling beef-tea and vitalized phos- 
phates, trying to patch up your wasted strength. 
Since that weird little bit of sallow flesh, De Ouincey, 
wrote his " Confessions," scores of literary hopefuls 
have taken opium and sat up until four o'clock in 
the morning, thinking that they too might roar like 
the lion ; but sour stomachs, and red eyes, and heavy 
heads are about the only things they could record 
as the legitimate results of the trial. 

The above matters of caution are needed by but 
few. The majority of men are more likely to rust 
out than to wear out. When men break down 
from over -work, it is commonly from want of duly 
ordering their lives, and neglect of the ordinary 
conditions of physical health. Hard work, steadily 
and regularly carried on, seldom hurts any one. 
So organize your labors that you will turn from 
one toil to another with alacrity and zest. If hours 
of entire relief from manual labor and study are 
necessary, so order them that, with BufTon, even 
your leisure shall be instructive. Length of years 
is no proper test of length of life. A man's life 
is measured by what he does in it. No matter 
how long an idle man lives, he only vegetates. 




aim. 



I know that I am censured of some conceit of my ability or 
worth ; but I pray your Majesty impute it to my desire. — Lord 
Bacon to James I. 

One science only will one genius fit : 
So wide is art, so narrow human wit. 

—Pope. 

The wise and active conquer difficulties 
By daring to attempt them ; sloth and folly 
Shiver and shrink at sight of toil and danger, 
And make the impossibility they fear. 

— Rowe. 

The sweat of industry would dry and die 



But for the end it works to. 



•Shakspeare 



Every one is the son of his own work. — Cervantes. 

A necessary provision for success is an elevated and worthy 



aim. 




CHAPTER IV. 



AIM. 



2kM0OST men desire to accomplish a creditable 
IMifiLfi work. They have respect for the approval 
of their fellows. But this is not enough. A man 
must have his own approval. The plaudits of the 
public are worth little if he can not find applause 
when he turns within. No man can afford to secure 
a result at the expense of his manhood, no matter 
how rich it may be. The attainment of any great 
end by unmanly means is not success. Nothing is 
success for which you exchange your virtue or 
dignity. Every aim must be worthy of you, and one 
of which you are proud. 

During the war for the independence of the col- 
onies, it is related that in one of the early battles, the 
British soldiers opened fire on our troops without 
taking aim. This kind of shooting may have been 
dictated by mercy, and may have served to amelio- 
rate the rigors of war, but for thinning the ranks 
of a foe it proved ineffectual. Our intrepid general 
ordered his men not to fire until they could see the 
whites of the enemies' eyes. The result was, the 



76 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

advancing column was cut down like grass. So it 
is in the struggle of life. The man who aims with 
precision will do thorough execution ; while he who 
shoots at random rarely hits the mark. 

The desire for success is universal. Every man 
intends to win. Every heart pants for victory. But, 
alas! the masses only fire at the lump. They have 
no definite aim, and ambition without this is mis- 
placed, and one of the vanities. Success is no nebu- 
lous affair; it is a specific result to be attained. The 
acquirement of unusual proficiency in a business, or 
the amassing of a lar^e fortune, is termed success. 
But such success depends upon special attention, 
and toil. People that labor loosely and at large 
do not often become proficients. You must put a goal 
far ahead of you, and cry with Paul, " I press toward 
the mark for the prize of my high calling." One 
physician will practice medicine for thirty years 
without winning any distinction whatever, simply 
because he makes nothing in his line a specialty; 
whereas his rival, with no better education or oppor- 
tunities, having made typhoid fever a careful study, 
acquires a reputation the country over for his treat- 
ment of diseases ; and thus, in consequence of his 
special knowledge, does twice the riding of his 
versatile friend. The carpenter who gives his atten- 
tion to weather-boarding acquires a skill that puts 
him in great demand, not particularly as a weather- 
boarder, but as a carpenter. Many men owe their 
failure to an effort to excel in every part of a wide 
occupation. The desire is laudable but not advisable. 



AIM. 77 

Give attention to one department at a time. It is 
a triumph to be the prince of horse-shoers in your 
community, but to be but a fair smith in everything 
is often to be a botch in the best thing. When 
Cyrus W. Field gives his attention to a submarine 
cable, pouring out the energies of a life-time upon it, 
there is a hope of bringing the two worlds into instant 
communion. And when Judge Fullerton assigns 
himself the task of managing the witnesses the 
public comes into possession of facts he could never 
give them as a general lawyer. 

Determine, then, to become pre-eminent in at least 
one branch of your profession, and let your point of 
perfection be placed as high as possible. The reach- 
ing of a high standard, of itself, lends wings to flight. 
With a heart full of enthusiasm, strive to become the 
master of your calling, and do in it and for it what no 
man has ever done before. God has given you some- 
thing to do which no other man can do as well. 
Seek out that thing, and do it. Never strive after 
success, as such. To work simply for glory is frivo- 
lous and fatal. No man was ever a great man who 
plotted to be one. To be sure there is a glory in 
being, but it is only as it comes to us incidentally. 
A man must do in order to be, and leave glory to take 
care of itself. Greatness attaches, in some degree, to 
every duty well done, but never to trappings and 
gaudy paraphernalia. In the formation of greatness 
the soul is so full of the noble promptings of duty 
it has no place for false expectations ; borne on by 
the impulses of responsibility and love, it finds its 



78 success ijst life. 

sufficiency in satisfying its necessities. Take away 
this element, this motive to action, and man would 
never do a great deed. Hence it is, many of the 
worlds really great men have been more surprised at 
being called great than their friends. It was not the 
occasion that made them great. They met the 
demands of the occasion and were therefore great 
Demosthenes did not think of becoming the world's 
greatest orator when he practiced for twelve years 
with pebbles in his mouth ; he only thought of over- 
coming an impediment in his speech and resisting 
Philip of Macedon. Patrick Henry did not dream of 
greatness when he made his speech in the old court- 
house in Virginia; he only thought of defending the 
people from the unrighteous encroachments of the 
clergy. Shakspeare wrote his plays, not for future 
greatness, but that he might be able to meet his gro- 
cer's bills. Think you Hannibal was planning for 
glory when he tied torches to the bullocks' horns, 
and sent them bellowing through the Roman camp, 
dismaying and routing their whole army? No! he 
only thought of getting his little band out of that 
valley of death. 

Men differ in mind, as they do in body, and no 
power can ever make them equals. Each is capable 
of the greatest prominence in his sphere. Yon little 
mound, put in contrast with the surrounding plain, is 
just as great as the loftiest peak of the Andes in the 
midst of neighboring mountains. Small men working 
in their sphere are just as great as the mightiest 
working in theirs. It is only when they change 



AIM. 79 

positions that the difference becomes offensive. It is 
only when little men have on big men's boots that 
they stumble and fall in the race of life. The greatest 
possibilities in your sphere, then, are open to you, but 
only in yours. So we must conclude, as an able 
writer has said : " It is no mans business whether he 
has genius or not ; work he must, whatever he is, but 
quietly and steadily, and the natural and unforced 
results of such work will be always the things that 
God meant him to do, and will be his best. No 
agonies nor heart-rendings will enable him to do any 
better! If he be a great man, they will be great 
things ; if he be a small man, small things ; but 
always, if thus peacefully done, good and right ; 
always, if restlessly and ambitiously done, false, 
hollow and despicable." 

Cotton has said that examples demonstrate the 
possibility of success. The life of Bernard Palissy, 
the potter, is an illustration of one who had an aim 
within his sphere, and who, without flagging, pursued 
it to the very highest results. The parents of 
Palissy were too poor to give him any education. 
" I had no books," he writes, " other than heaven and 
earth, which are open to all." After wandering over 
the continent for some ten years as a worker in 
glassware, he married and settled in the little town 
of Saintes. His family increased more rapidly than 
his earnings, and necessity called on him for greater 
exertions. He extended his operations to earthen- 
ware ; yet of its manufacture he was wholly 
ignorant, for he had never seen earth baked, and 



80 8UGGES8 IN LIFE. 

only had ingenuity, hope and perseverance for his 
helpers. 

Seeing one of Luca della Robbia's cups, his whole 
nature was wrought into an intense passion. His art 
needed just such a glaze as that. His whole life 
became stirred with the resolution to create that 
enamel. The necessities of his family inflamed his 
new-born ardor. But that family with his unhatched 
project before him became a millstone about his 
neck, anchoring him to the village and to a tedious 
fate. At first he could merely guess the materials of 
which the enamel was composed, and he proceeded 
to try all manner of experiments to ascertain what 
they really were. He pounded all the substances 
which he supposed were likely to produce it. Then 
he bought common earthen pots, broke them into 
pieces, and spreading his compounds over them, 
subjected them to the heat of a furnace which he 
erected for the purpose of baking them. His experi- 
ments failed, and the results were broken pots and a 
waste of fuel, drugs, time and labor. Women do not 
readily sympathize with experiments whose only tan- 
gible effect is to dissipate the means of buying clothes 
and food for their children; and Palissy's wife, however 
dutiful in other respects, could not be reconciled to 
the purchase of more earthenware pots, which seemed 
to her to be bought only to be broken. Yet she must 
needs submit; for Palissy had become thoroughly 
possessed by the determination to master the secret 
of the enamel, and would not leave it alone. 

Months and years were spent in these experiments, 



AIM. 31 

until finally Palissy was no longer able to meet even 
the small expense of his own furnace. But his 
determination increased as his money vanished, and 
he prepared four hundred more pieces, and carried 
them to a tile furnace five miles away. After the 
burning he went to see the pieces taken out, and 
every piece was again a failure. Sad but undaunted, 
he says, "I now resolved to begin afresh." 

For four years longer he pursued his experiments. 
Having in the mean time been called for several 
months to assist in measuring the " salt marshes," he 
was unusually hopeful, for he now had means with 
which to buy chemicals. But once more he was on 
the verge of abject poverty. He now resolved to 
make one last great effort, and began by breaking 
more pots than ever. Hundreds of pieces of pottery 
covered with his compounds were now taken to the 
furnace, and there he remained to watch the baking 
himself For four hours he watched ; and then the 
furnace was opened. Of the hundreds of pieces 
consigned to the fire, on one the compound had 
melted. It was taken out to cool. As it hardened 
it grew white and polished ! The one piece of 
potsherd was covered with an enamel which was 
singularly beautiful. His weary eyes lit up with 
fresh hope. But the prize was far from won. This 
partial success of the intended last effort lured him 
on to other experiments and failures. 

Feeling that victory was near at hand, he resolved 
to build a furnace near his dwelling. He did so with 
his own hands, carrying on his back the brick from 



82 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

the brick-field. Another year passed, and the furnace 
was ready. Palissy had in the mean time prepared a 
number of clay vessels for the laying on of the 
enamel. After baking, they were covered with the 
enamel compound and placed in the furnace for 
the crucial experiment. For months he had been 
gathering fuel for the final effort, and he thought 
there was enough. His family reproached him for 
his recklessness, and his neighbors cried shame upon 
him for his obstinate folly. But, acknowledging no 
criterion but success, he once more lit the fire. All 
day he sat by the furnace, feeding it with fuel. 
All through the long night he sat there, watching 
and feeding. Yet the enamel did not melt. The sun 
rose, and still he sat with eager eyes. His wife 
brought him a portion of the scanty morning meal — 
for he would not stir from the furnace, into which he 
continued from time to time to heave more .fuel. 
The second day passed, and still the enamel did not 
melt. The sun set, and another night passed. The 
pale, haggard, unshorn, baffled yet not beaten Palissy 
sat by his furnace eagerly looking for the melting of 
the enamel. A third day and night passed — a 
fourth, a fifth, and even a sixth — yes, for six long 
days and nights did the unconquerable Palissy watch 
and toil, fighting against hope; and still the enamel 
would not melt. 

It then occurred to him that there might be some 
defect in the materials for the enamel — perhaps 
something wanting in the flux ; so he set to work to 
pound and compound fresh materials for a new 



AIM. 83 

experiment. Thus two or three more weeks passed. 
But how to buy more pots ? — for those which he had 
made with his own hands for the purposes of the first 
experiment were, by long baking, irretrievably spoiled 
for the purposes of a second. His money was now 
all spent ; but he could borrow. His character was 
still good, though his wife and the neighbors thought 
him foolishly wasting his means in futile experiments. 
Nevertheless he succeeded. He borrowed sufficient 
from a friend to enable him to buy more fuel and 
more pots, and he was again ready for a further 
experiment. The pots were covered with the new 
compound, placed in the furnace, and the fire was 
again lit. 

It was the last and most desperate experiment of 
the whole. The fire blazed up ; the heat became 
intense ; but still the enamel did not melt. The fuel 
began to run short! How to keep up the fire? 
There were the garden palings : these would burn. 
They must be sacrificed rather than that the great 
experiment should fail. The garden palings were 
pulled up and cast into the furnace. They were 
burned in vain ! The enamel had not yet melted. 
Ten minutes' more heat might do. Fuel must be 
had, no matter what the cost There remained the 
household furniture and shelving. He rushed into 
the house, seized bedstead and chairs and crushed 
them to kindlings. His wife and children sat down 
in tears and despair. Even their little home was 
going. Still the enamel did not melt. Another 
wrenching of timber was heard inside the house : the 



84 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

shelves were being torn down and hurled after the 
furniture into the fire. Wife and children then 
rushed from the house, and went frantically through 
the town, crying that Palissy had gone mad and was 
breaking up his very furniture for firewood. 

For an entire month his shirt had not been off his 
back, and he was utterly worn out with toil, anxiety, 
watching, and want of food. He was in debt, and 
seemed on the verge of ruin. But he had at last 
triumphed. The last great burst of heat had melted 
the compound. When the furnace cooled, there 
stood the common clay jars, which had been put in 
brown, glittering with white enamel 

Ten years he had patiently borne the scorn and 
reproach of his friends and family. Ten years had 
he spent battling with poverty, prosecuting an aim 
within his sphere — seeking for perfection in one 
branch of his art. Yet he toiled through eight years 
more of experimental plodding before he was com- 
plete master of glazing. Every mishap was a fresh 
lesson to him, teaching him something new about the 
nature of enamels, the qualities of argillaceous earths, 
the tempering of clays, and the construction and 
management of furnaces. Concerning his struggles 
during these last years he writes : " Nevertheless, 
hope continued to inspire me, and I held on man- 
fully. Sometimes, when visitors called, I entertained 
them with pleasantry, while I was really sad at 

heart Worst of all the sufferings I had to 

endure, were the mockeries and persecutions of those 
of my own household, who were so unreasonable as 



AIM. 85 

to expect me to execute work without the means of 
doing so. For years my furnaces were without any 
covering or protection, and while attending them I 
have been for nights at the mercy of the wind and 
the rain, without help or consolation, save it might 
be the wailing of cats on the one side and the 
howling of dogs on the other. Sometimes the 
tempest would beat so furiously against the furnaces 
that I was compelled to leave them and seek shelter 
within doors. Drenched by rain, and in no better 
plight than if I had been dragged through mire, I 
have gone to lie down at midnight or at daybreak, 
stumbling into the- house without a light, and reeling 
from one side to another as if I had been drunken, 
but really weary with watching and filled with sorrow 
at the loss of my labor after such long toiling. But 
alas ! my home proved no refuge ; for, drenched and 
besmeared as I was, I found in my chamber a second 
persecution worse than the first, which makes me 
even now marvel that I was not utterly consumed by 
my many sorrows." 

At this stage of his affairs, Palissy became melan- 
choly and almost hopeless, and seems to have all 
but broken down. He wandered gloomily about 
the fields near Saintes, his clothes hanging in tatters, 
and himself worn to a skeleton. In a curious passage 
in his writings he describes how that the calves of 
his legs had disappeared, and were no longer able 
with the help of garters to hold up his stockings, 
which fell about his heels when he walked. 

Palissy lived to a ripe old age crowned with 



86 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

wealth and honor. He was appointed Inventor of 
Rustic Figulines to the King, and lodged in the 
Tuileries. He wrote on agriculture and natural 
history, and became celebrated as a religious dis- 
putant after he was seventy years of age. A man 
of rare virtues and inflexible rectitude, possessed of 
extraordinary endurance and continuity of aim, his 
life was made great by heroic labor. His was a 
literal application of Locke's principle, that "he 
that sets out on weak legs will not only go 
further, but grow stronger, too, than one who, 
with a vigorous constitution and firm limbs, only 
sits still." 

A man may have the most dazzling talents, but 
if they are not directed toward a special result, he 
will accomplish nothing. The opinion is prevalent 
that greatness disdains the humble, toilsome path 
that leads to excellence, Indolent schoolboys and 
dissipated college lads are in the habit of quoting 
the example of Henry Clay and Daniel Webster to 
justify their course, and of attempting to prove by 
a curious kind of logic that they are giving indica- 
tions of genius. These men were laborious students 
in their later years. Clay always expressed remorse 
at his early neglect, although it would be difficult 
to see how he could have been more studious; 
while Webster never ceased to regret his early 
indifference. Even Sir Walter Scott, a recognized 
genius, whose extensive writings and comprehensive 
sentences would indicate a reserve of power that 
was inexhaustible ) speaks in his personal history 



AIM. 87 

with a voice of warning against this fatal misappre- 
hension. He says: "If it should ever fall to the 
lot of youth to peruse these pages, let such readers 
remember that it is with the deepest regret that I 
recollect in my manhood the opportunities of learning 
which I neglected in my youth; that through every 
part of my literary career I have felt pinched and 
hampered by my own ignorance, and would this 
moment give half of the reputation I have had the 
good fortune to acquire, if by so doing I could rest 
the remaining part upon a sound foundation of 
learning and science." 

In fact, the majority of our best men have left 
cause to regret the days when they thought there 
was no need of application. A recent writer, himself 
a man of brilliant genius, says: "I produce a work, 
and men cry 'genius/ I can admit no genius in it. 
I decide to execute a work ; and at once bring my 
whole soul to the task; after days and months of 
toil — toil such as the most of men will not give to 
an object, or do not care to give, I bring forth the 
scanty result, and they say, another great feat of 
genius." There is a common misapprehension con- 
cerning education. It is generally thought to mean an 
infusing into the mind of a certain amount of informa- 
tion, classical, mathematical, technical, or historical. 
But this is to confound the end with the means. Every 
kind of information extant may have a tendency 
to educate, but of itself can not constitute the work. 
That man is educated who, by whatever means, has 
made his powers available to an end; and he is best 



88 SUCCESS IN LIFE, 

educated who can make them effective to reach the 
best end. 

We have Fox, the child of an indulgent father, 
rising despite luxury, gaming and dissoluteness, into 
the most brilliant debater the world ever saw; Burke, 
with ordinary advantages, distancing all competitors; 
Erskine, the ensign-bearer, meeting no peer before 
a jury; Chatham, bred in affluence, bearing every 
thing before him by the resistless storm of his 
eloquence ; Lincoln, the rail-splitter, putting at bay the 
mighty Douglas; and Fred. Douglass, the eloquent 
African, rising in spite of ignominy of birth and race- 
prejudice ; all of unequal education and different 
environments, now ranking as peers, side by side. 
Each had caught the secret of making his powers 
available, and each attained a rare destiny. 

Only men of lofty aim are permitted to accom- 
plish great works. Nothing so fires the soul to 
energy as the possibility of unusual results. Ablaze 
with such a faith, Louis Napoleon ventured his 
desperate coup-d'-etat, and found himself Emperor 
of France. Poverty and misfortune sometimes 
become the very talisman of success. Byron's resolve 
was never taken until he overheard a schoolmate 
call him " club-foot." Then and there he resolved 
to outstrip that boy in the race of life. Nelson was 
little and lame and nervous. On coming down to the 
vessel after his appointment as captain, the sailors 
exclaimed, "What ! Make a captain out of that little 
fellow?" Nelson's sensitive nature was wounded, and 
he determined to show himself worthy of the office. 



AIM. 89 

It matters little, so far as the final result is concerned, 
what prompts the setting up of an aim. Like Byron, 

" Many a soul sublime 
Has felt the influence of malignant star, 
And waged with fortune an eternal war." 

That aim is the noblest and most likely to succeed 
which is felt to be a necessity in the calling, and then 
is labored unto for very love of it. A conviction that 
the time had come to supplant the philosophy of 
Aristotle by a more rational statement of things, 
and that the world demanded such a work, produced 
Bacon's Novum Organon. Nothing short of a love 
that burned to enthusiasm caused Michael Angelo 
to toil so prodigiously, embellishing the walls of 
the Vatican with a touch almost divine. When 
asked why he did not marry, he replied, " Painting is 
my wife, and my works are my children." Hermit 
Peter felt that the interests of his religion and the 
honor of his God demanded that the Holy Sepulcher 
should be freed from the domination of the Turk, 
To this labor he consecrated himself — a most 
stupendous undertaking for a recluse — traveling for 
months and years in poverty and under censure. 
The derision of the populace and the daily obstacles 
with which he had to contend, only served to increase 
his faith in his mission. He felt he was to be the 
liberator of Jerusalem. When men said, " Even if 
successful, no benefit can be derived," his answer was, 
"It is a religious duty." When they cried, " Impos- 
sible," he met that with the burning reply, " No right 



90 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

work is impossible." His zeal drove over every 
opposition, until his plea rang through every palace, 
house and hamlet on the continent. He conquered 
Europe in order to conquer Islam. For three 
hundred years, nations vied with each other in fur- 
nishing blood for the slaughter. The crusades failed 
to accomplish Peter's intention, but he produced the 
mightiest uprising recorded in the annals of history. 

No class of men so uniformly fail as they who sit 
in the sunshine of wealth. Being hedged about with 
the elements out of which opportunities spring, they 
ought to be the most successful ; but luxury enervates, 
and her children are so pampered they die before 
they learn their uselessness. It is far better to perish 
in poverty than to flourish in indolence. The very 
fact that bread and butter have to be obtained by 
the sweat of the brow, tends to increase activity and 
to give direction to an honest aim. A great fortune 
is often a great misfortune. This is specially true if 
it fall into the hands of the young. Nothing blinds 
the aim so much as a father's heavy bank account. 
Hugh Miller thought manual labor was necessary, in 
the very nature of things, to develop and sustain a 
high purpose. He may not be entirely correct, but, 
at any rate, the wealthy young man is fortunate if he 
realizes that all his possibilities are to be wrought 
out by his own exertions. Stall-fed greatness is 
likely to make bloats. Money lavished on you is in 
vain, unless you use aright the opportunities it 
purchases. Friends to build scaffold about*you,,and 
spouting editors to cry up your magnificence, only 



AIM. 91 

make it more certain that for you destiny is dead. 
Greatness is not something poured into a man ; it is 
something he pours out. All the means to reach 
a desired end may be about you, but if you go to it 
on crutches you will not be able to stand when you 
arrive. The school-teacher who impresses his pupils 
with the great practical truth that all the elements 
they can utilize in the struggle of life are within 
themselves, and that all assistance beyond a certain 
limit enfeebles them, is worth a thousand dollars a 
year more to the patrons of the school than the 
teacher who confines himself to the customary hum- 
drum of text-books. The life of Cicero had been 
rendered aimless by the dissipation of wealth, and 
his efforts as a student neutralized by the flattery of 
friends, who maintained him to be the greatest orator 
of the world. When he matched sentences with one 
of the old senators, he saw his failure. Forthwith 
he left Rome, and entered the school of ^Eschines. 
For many months he kept aloof from the public in 
the steady pursuit of rhetorical power. Unweariedly 
he toiled, mounting, step by step, to the summit of 
his profession, till now, on his return to Rome, by 
common consent he became monarch of the Forum. 
The young man who spends his time in bewailing 
his fate in this open and industrious world is a ninny; 
and not much better is he who pins himself to the 
skirts of an illustrious ancestry. What would the 
younger Pitt have been without tireless drudgery? 
Or what the younger Hood or Hawthorne? Let 
each rely on his own resources. Let him whet his 



92 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

sword on the stones of opposition ; then will he with 
deft stroke hew down every foe. 

In his recently published " Life and* Letters," 
Lord Macaulay says, " I am now near the end of Tom 
Moore's ' Life of Byron/ It is a sad book. Poor 
fellow ! Yet he was a bad fellow and horribly affected. 
But then what that could spoil a character was 
wanting? Had I at twenty-four had a peerage, and 
been the most popular poet and the most successful 
Lovelace of the day, I should have been as great a 
coxcomb and possibly as bad a man." 

Some one, whose mind ran on love, says, 

" Faint heart never won fair lady ;" 

and so it is, that the man who, through fear of 
failure, has faltered while contemplating life in its 
most fruitful stage, can scarce pick up courage ever 
after to attempt any thing durable. He sees what 
others undergo in order to reach excellence, and 
thinks the cost too great. The summer is too long 
and dry and heated before the harvest. But it is 
written in the irrevocable laws, " He that would be a 
master must be a slave." And it is this slavery, many 
otherwise clever men detest. Their apology is that 
this, that and the other is not their forte. And the 
this, that and the other is, of course, the drudgery. 
Canning and Phillips, than whom none of the "few 
illustrious" were brighter, found it impossible to 
descend to menial toil. Betrayed by their flashing 
declamation, they were content to excite admiration 
when they should have been striving to carry home 



MM, 93 

conviction. Their statesmanship and legal lore were 
of an equally unpractical character. Of the former 
Pitt said, "He might have achieved any thing if he 
had gone straight to the mark." He closed his fitful 
career as he commenced it, as voluble as a fountain 
but as empty as a drum. On the other side of the 
house sat Fox. Here was a man of definite aim. 
When but a weaver's boy he was courageous enough 
to demand a portion of his time for mental pursuits. 
He did not grant that, to submit to an apprentice- 
ship entitled the proprietor to a wholesale interest in 
his brains and blood. There was something else to 
live for besides weaving cloth. He was to control 
men and measures, and early in life he asserted his 
right to so fit himself. Did not Randon, the drum- 
mer-boy, drink at this Pierian spring when he 
resolved to be a more useful soldier, and so informed 
his comrades? He bore to his profession a deep 
devotion and a singleness of purpose which was 
rewarded, at last, by placing him in the French 
Cabinet, as Minister of War. And now, to-day, as 
his portrait hangs in the gallery at Versailles, with 
his hand resting on his drum, lofty thoughts are 
inspired in the minds of many a soldier as to 
valorous deeds yet to be done, and heights yet to be 
climbed. 

When John C. Calhoun was a student at Yale 
College his energetic habits called out the question 
from his companions, what the necessity for it? 
"Why, sir," he answered, "I am forced to make the 
best of my time that I may acquit myself creditably 



94 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

when in Congress." This caused a roar of laughter. 
"Do you doubt it," he vehemently continued; "I 
assure you if I were not convinced of my ability 
to reach the National Capital as a representative 
within the next three years, I would quit college 
this very day." 

Place your aim high, then. Fix your eye firmly 
on it and instantly begin your task. You may not 
accomplish all you desire, but so intentioned, you 
will achieve many noble things. Do not despise 
hindrances, but anticipate them. Never suffer your- 
self to be surprised and chagrined by disappoint- 
ments. As Dewey says, " The plow and the harrow 
will break in the field ; the tire will part from the 
wheel, or the horse will cast his shoe by the way ; 
the thread will slip from the needle ; the garments 
we wear will not exactly fit; a certain pertinacious 
tendency to disorder or discomfort will meet us at 
every turn ; the course of nothing will run smooth." 
Be prepared for all these things, then, and be 
patient. Hindrances are God's helps. He that hath 
no hindrance hath no mission, and he that hath no 
mission has no manhood. What you are to do is 
to " Overturn, Overturn, Overturn," until you be 
crowned the victor of life. 





j&eU=Heliattce, 



Man is his own star ; and the soul that can 
Render an honest and a perfect man, 
Commands all light, all influence, all fate ; 
Nothing to him falls early or too late. 
Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, 
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still. 

— Honest Man's Fortune. 

Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.- 
Emerson. 

"Our motive power is always found in what we lack." 




9 6 




CHAPTER V. 



SELF-RELIANCE. 




T has come to be universally believed 
that self-reliance is the master key that 
unlocks all the difficulties arising along one's path. 
But like the locks of private mail boxes, the intri- 
cacies of each forbid entrance to all keys but one. 
Every person, then, must solve his own problems. 
Individuality is the primer Nature first puts into the 
hand, and peculiarity is one of her first stepping- 
stones to an enviable destiny. A human being who 
simply repeats another is of little moment. Base 
imitations are bad things. We bring away that 
which injures more easily than we do that which helps. 
Even in the best estate, repetitions become flat and 
monotonous, and an excess of proclamation is 
attended with mere pomp and sound. A man who 
would get on in the world can afford to confess this. 
There is no such thing as suiting your strokes to 
every echo, nor your steps to every footprint. 
Neither if you proceed at your option and as wisely 



97 



98 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

as you know how, will every one accord with your 
conceptions of propriety. Are you, then, to tarry and 
mourn over the world's conservatism? Is life to be 
to you a mere enslavement to effete customs? 
Emerson says, " Whoso would be a man must be a 
non-conformist. He who would gather immortal 
palms must not be hindered by the name of good- 
ness, but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing 
is at last sacred but the integrity of your own 
mind. Absolve you to yourself, and you shall have 
the suffrage of the world. I remember an answer 
which, when quite young, I was prompted to 
make to a valued adviser who was wont to impor- 
tune me with the dear old doctrines of the church. 
On my saying, ' What have I to do with the sacred- 
ness of traditions, if I live wholly from within?' my 
friend suggested : ' But these impulses may be from 
below, not from above.' I replied : ' They do not 
seem to me to be such ; but if I am the devil's child, 
I will live, then, from the devil.' " I quote this because 
it seeks to lift every man on to the vantage ground 
of reverence for self. A man is to carry himself 
when alone, and when in the presence of all the 
world, as if every thing were titular and ephemeral 
but himself. The man does not live who can afford to 
have the self-consciousness of his worth struck out 
of his mind. 

Who does not know one or more men of large 
acquirements and rich culture whose splendid parts 
are all withering for lack of use? The cause of 
this is want of self-confidence. They see things 



SELF-RELIANCE. 99 

they would like to do, and are conscious their attain- 
ments have thoroughly prepared them for it, but 
they have not courage enough to trust themselves. 
If self-reliance could be reduced to conic sections, 
and a treatise placed in our schools, to be taught 
as astronomy and physiology are, there might be 
some hope that by the next generation or two 
self-reliant men would be grown. But could such 
a novelty ever occur, what a depletion should we 
witness in the ranks of those who annually flock 
to Long Branch, Saratoga, and Europe! Let us 
not speculate so freely. Self-reliance, after all, is 
not a thing to be bought by the yard or measured 
off like tape. In a large sense it is God-given, but 
like the apocalyptic candlestick, its criminal disuse 
justifies its removal. Many persons come into the 
world with smallness of gift, as it respects this. 
But the exercise of what little is owned is so limited, 
no benefits accrue. They seem never to have known 
what it was to wield the sinewy arm and possess the 
iron heart. They are pendants, fastening, like bar- 
nacles to a ship, on some one stronger and more 
executive than themselves. Instead of grappling with 
fate, they tamely submit to be drawn on by what 
they deem the best management. They may have 
plans and purposes enough, but, if so, they lack 
that cohesive power which knits things together, 
and, worse than all, moral solvency. Time was when, 
inconsiderable as were their parts, they were their 
own ; and, to say the least, a seed is not so small 
as to justify negligence in planting, watering and 



100 SUGG ESS IN LIFE. 

attention. Now, their garden is adorned with neither 
indigenous nor exotic plants. 

For a man to attempt any considerable task with- 
out self-reliance, is about as wise as for a carpenter 
to commence a roof without a ridge-pole. This 
essential quality is the tap-root of the tree of life. 
Cut it, and instantly the foliage dies and drops; 
succor it, and new, umbrageous boughs are sent 
forth. But self-reliance does not imply that one can 
derive no benefit from foreign help ; it rather implies 
that one does. No one can successfully deny the 
fact of his babyhood. What would a tree be if it 
were forbidden to replenish its juices from the 
agencies beneath and about it ? Would it ever have 
been, had it not ? And yet as to resisting storms, or 
in any wise making its way in the forest, and holding 
its own territory, it must depend upon its own forces. 
The sun may shine, the atmosphere may heap itself 
about in strata, rains may fall, and the earth be full of 
nourishment, but if the tree reach not out to seize the 
good that is in them, it will perish as though they 
had not been. Nay, if it fail of one, it fails of all ; 
for the chain upon which success depends is no 
stronger than its weakest link. 

So it is with man. Let him, to begin with, be well 
grounded. He finds himself in the midst of an 
armory of implements. Let him take Sauls armor 
if he can wear it, and Saul's spear if he can wield it ; 
if not, let him have sense enough to know it, and 
then choose a sling and a stone to slay his giant. 
He has a heritage in the wealth of thought and deed 



SELF • RELIANCE. 101 

that has come down to him from Adam ; let him 
enrich himself with the counsels and the example of 
all who are worthy to give him an uplift. But let 
this be done not with feebleness of purpose nor 
emasculation of power. Let even the selection of 
help be made with that independent tact that shall 
show vigor and rigor of will. One must have founda- 
tions: but quarry and lay the ashlar yourself. One 
must find scaffold-timber somewhere, but keep it out 
of the house. One must have stepping-stones in life, 
but use them to pass up on, and out into the great 
beyond of action and art. This gives the world the 
very ripest, broadest manhood possible. Every one 
and every thing is conserved for a further and a 
better service. Each succeeding generation thus 
becomes debtor to the past, and an improvement 
upon it; and the thought or the act is his who says 
or does it last and best. We have felt it necessary to 
say this because of some cant abroad about plagiarism 
and that sort of thing. We do not wish our readers 
so intimidated as to decline necessary help. We 
have no sympathy with the mental development 
which results from ultra-mental independence. The 
world needs to be freed from this over-individual- 
ity ; and yet we are not indifferent to the injury 
that must accrue should our teaching be misapplied. 
On this point, then, we intend being quite explicit. 
There is this difference between corner-stones and 
crutches : on one you build, on the other you lean. 
Erected on the one is that which is constantly taking 
expansion and greater beauty of form ; erected on 



102 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

the other is that which daily dwindles. While, there- 
fore, we heartily urge what is written, we as pointedly 
denounce a disposition upon the part of the young to 
fly to some father, mother or friend, on the most 
trivial occasions, for help. We know of no surer way 
to prostrate and paralyze the energies than this. 
Not thus are men built. Nature never gives a hardy 
growth after this fashion : the mightiest trees are 
those that stand apart. Let the young do some 
thinking for themselves. Do not organize their 
plans ; do not make their investments ; do not 
render their decisions ; do not bolster them up thus. 
They can not always be tied to one's apron-strings. 
To their own master they must stand or fall. If 
you would have them good for any thing, let them 
pass through their crises alone. What is more 
deplorable in life, if it were not laughable, than to 
see one of these molluscous creatures looking about 
for some parent shell to creep into? Hitherto, in 
such a time of, to him, momentous exigency, some 
friend was at hand to lend a help ; now he looks 
round for his prop in vain. For an instant or two he 
manages to preserve his equilibrium, and then over 
he topples, looking as helpless, to the bystanders, as 
a capsized turtle. 

If there were no other reason' for being more 
independent, the fact that every one has all he can 
do to attend to his own concerns, is a potent one. 
When we cut loose from the old homestead, we are 
on a search for the philosopher s stone, if we suppose 
we shall find people who have so deep an interest 



SELF - RELIANCE. 103 

in us as to carry us through the world on their 
shoulders. A severance of self from every one else, 
and a gathering up of all the forces under our com- 
mand, that we may individualize them, is one of the 
first steps to success. The world has no use for 
boobies. It is not going to turn aside for you until 
you compel it to, and this you will never do without 
irresistible vim. 

Only less effective than undue dependence upon 
parents and friends, in producing dolts, if not worse, 
is being tampered with by them. Why should my 
father relieve me of my responsibility by constantly 
managing my affairs for me ? Had he not a father 
once? Why be so solicitous? Are not a good 
example and precepts sufficient without molding a 
young man like bricks or dough? Let there be 
freedom of thought, room to purpose, and inde- 
pendent opinions in your son if you would have 
him honor your name. A late merchant said that, 
not until he was fifty years of age, was he able 
fully to overcome the distrust of himself that an 
over-solicitous parent had trained him in up to his 
twenty-fifth year. Till then his father held control 
of the business, treating him and his efforts as 
though they were not trustworthy. The result was 
that it took him a quarter of a century longer to 
accomplish what he desired than it would if he had 
been allowed opportunity to exercise his originality. 

We can not counsel irreverence to parents. But 
we as much dislike tyrannizing over child-nature. If, 
then, you are so unfortunately situated, endure it 



104 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

with as good a grace as possible, using what chance 
hours you can find to give your nature vent. Upon 
entering life for yourself resolve to play second fiddle 
to no man. Conceive and execute for yourself if 
possible, and it is possible. If a clerk, study out 
ways and means for exhibiting and selling goods, 
relying on your own judgment to teach you how. 
One stout soul with a resolution to work its own 
way through the world after the pattern of its own 
high ideal, is of real significance in life and may 
safely defy failure. Some where, and at some time, 
you must be courageous enough to rest upon your 
own judgment, and the sooner you do so the better 
it will be for you. Self-reliance is like capital in 
business: the more one has of it the greater his 
facilities for increase. Yet with a meager beginning 
one may by good economy occasionally overcome 
want of capital and still prosper. Lord Nelson 
recognized the fact that in lack of self-reliance lay 
his obstacle to preferment. Even in his advanced 
years he would roll sleeplessly over in his berth all 
night, fearing he would not be able to meet the 
demands of the morrow. Yet by long training and 
wise preparation, combined with unwearied attention 
to details, he brought himself to plan and conduct 
naval battles, the equals of which have never since 
been claimed by English fleets. 

A lofty self-respect must be associated with self- 
reliance. "The youth," says Disraeli, "who does not 
look up will look down ; and the spirit that does 
not soar is destined, perhaps, to grovel." Martin 



SELF-RELIANCE. 105 

Luther dared to face the frown of the religious and 
political powers of the earth. His action appeared 
unwise and reckless, but it was far from it. A 
supreme confidence that he was advocating the truth, 
and that he was able to maintain it, were the 
simple and sole motives that drove him single- 
handed into that awful conflict. Jenner faced shame 
and ridicule when he proclaimed the value of vac- 
cination. Though it seemed foolish to the schools 
and to the people, he continued stoutly to affirm 
it, and brought the colleges to his feet. On the same 
principle did Jackson meet the National Bank Bill, 
and did Bonaparte say, " There shall be no Alps." 
It may not at all times be right, but it is the con- 
viction of a soul that will think and dares to do. 

Business is being flooded with men who mistake 
recklessness for self-reliance. The occasional success 
that crowns their ventures is heralded over the land, 
and becomes an incentive to the mass to be governed 
by the same principles of action. The man who 
risks his last dollar on a wheat speculation ; who 
stakes his fortune on a single throw of the dice; 
the merchant who invests a fabulous sum in the 
fashions of this fall, or credits his customers to the 
extent of his invested capital ; a general who risks a 
battle with half his army when he could as well 
have every corps in action; or the captain who puts 
to sea with half enough coal for his voyage, trusting 
to lucky winds to blow him through — may be plucky, 
but they lack wisdom. Self-reliance uncontrolled by 
wisdom is as a vessel without a pilot. 



106 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Again, one may have an over-faith in himself 
There is many a village lawyer who saw how he 
could have bettered Evartss defense of Beecher; 
many a young fire captain saw how he could have 
snatched burning Chicago out of the flames; many 
a merchant sees how he could run A. T. Stew- 
art's business better than Judge Hilton; many 
a cross-roads newspaper editor comments on the 
failure of the Times. Every embryonic statesman 
can point you out the fallacies in Clay, where 
Webster missed it, and the deplorable failure of 
Calhoun. There may be a tinge of truth in all this. 
It is easy to see partial failures after they have been 
magnified by shrewd opponents. The man with this 
kind of faith in himself is not likely to study the 
steps by which these eminent actors have succeeded ; 
and going into a contest with a keen eye to avoid 
failures, he finds he has failed to master those things 
that make for victory. Self-reliance gives its great 
attention to the things to be done in order to 
succeed, and not the things to be avoided. That 
self-sufficiency that can coolly criticize our betters is 
not exactly the lever that upsets the world. To be 
sure, one should have great faith in his correctness ; 
but underlying this should be a clear knowledge of 
the validity of the testimony on which this correct- 
ness is based. That self-reliance that sees a desired 
end, and determines to reach it at whatever hazard 
to men or to morals, and however contrary to the 
best judgments, may be deemed by some valuable, 
but its virtue is neutralized by its licentiousness. 



SELF • RELIANCE. 107 

Without doubt, there needs to be much of the 
"infallible feeling" in every thing you do. It must 
approach the subject from the proper angle. Your 
worth as a critic on other men's actions will avail 
little when acting for yourself. You need to come 
to that labor with the soul charged with self- 
confidence, never letting it suspect that promise 
outruns performance. No man ever yet approached 
a thing he was able to perform with over-confidence. 
He must approach it with a confidence that sets 
aside mere criticism, without a single thought con- 
cerning failure, but with the clear understanding that 
he can do that work, for he knows how. Emerson 
sets forth the thought in the following happy way: 
" Each young and ardent person writes a diary, in 
which, when the hours of prayer and penitence arrive, 
he inscribes his soul. The pages thus written are to 
him burning and fragrant: he reads them on his 
knees by midnight and by the morning star ; he wets 
them with his tears. They are sacred — too good 
for the world, and hardly yet to be shown to the 
dearest friend. This is the man-child that is born to 
the soul, and her life still circulates in the babe. The 
umbilical cord has not yet been cut. After some 
time has elapsed, he begins to wish to admit his 
friend to this hallowed experience, and with hesita- 
tion, yet with firmness, exposes the pages to his eye. 
Will they not burn his eyes ? The friend coldly 
turns them over, and passes from the writing to 
conversation with easy transition, which strikes the 
other party with astonishment and vexation. He 



108 SUCCESS IF LIFE, 

can not suspect the writing itself. Days and nights 
of fervid life, of communication with angels of dark- 
ness and of light, have engraved their shadowy 
characters on that tear-stained book. He suspects 
the intelligence or the heart of his friend. Is there 
no friend ? He can not yet credit that one may have 
impressive experience, and yet may not know how to 
put his private fact into literature; and perhaps the 
discovery that wisdom has other tongues and minis- 
ters than we — that though we should hold our peace, 
the truth would not the less be spoken — might check 
injuriously the flames of our zeal. A man can only 
speak so long as he does not feel his speech to be 
partial and inadequate. It is partial, but he does not 
see it to be so while he utters it. As soon as he is 
released from the instinctive and particular, and 
suspects its partiality, he shuts his mouth in disgust. 
For no man can write any thing, who does not think 
that what he writes is, for the time, the history of the 
world, or do any thing well, who does not esteem his 
work to be of importance. My work may be of 
none, but I must not think it of none, or I shall not 
do it with impunity." 

A chattering conceit is not self-trust. The two 
are wide asunder as the poles. No man will ever 
palm conceit off on himself for real force of character. 
If he attempt to palm it onto others, the chimney- 
sweeps and bootblacks will laugh at his folly. 
Nothing will ever avail a man's self for himself but 
that which is within himself. The man who speaks 
from within, knows himself, and the world soon 



SELF- RELIANCE. 109 

knows him. If he put something on to himself, and 
speak and act from it, he feels that the clothes do 
not fit, and the world sees they were never made for 
him. Pampering and polishing a little self-pride 
until it becomes a monstrous self-conceit, enables a 
man to strut, and vaunt, and parade, but it never 
blinds the world, nor gives him strength to perform 
a heroic deed. 

Conceit was once mistaken for courage, in those 
days called chivalrous. It built palaces that bank- 
rupted the citizens of a province. It marshaled the 
Crusaders, and murdered millions of men and chil- 
dren. It gave to conquerors the idea that might 
makes right, and caused kings to proclaim worship 
to themselves as to gods. But Cervantes extinguished 
it with a romance. He sent the plumed Don Quix- 
ote through its mailed sides, and it only makes its 
appearance since in the shape of men who seem 
but can not be. There was no conceit in the Alexander 
that conquered, in the Columbus that discovered, in 
the Washington that withstood. 

There is a power in self-trust that gives one a 
potency and influence beyond all his other natural 
abilities. Let some uncouth person suddenly appear 
in a cultured community and raise his voice against 
established abuses — the betrayal of confidence in 
society, or the prevalent misrepresentations of the 
trades-people — drawing the public mind to his 
judgment-seat and condemning it. His incoherent 
and irrational speech may excite ridicule for a day, 
but very soon the Emersons and Carlyles come and 



HO SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

sit at his feet. The man who gives fearless utter- 
ance to his whole convictions will commend himself 
to the judgment of all unbiased people. The same 
principle that urges one into the breach of a great 
reformation or to speak his faith in the face of 
raging opposition will lead him to choose words 
which, however inelegant, are always strong and 
aggressive. In the days of the Terror, Lannes spoke 
with more impurity than any man in Paris, and 
yet at Lodi he was the man who sprang in front 
of Bonaparte leading the French across the bridge. 
After the bridge was crossed Lannes "spurred his 
maddened horse into the very midst of the Austrian 
ranks," says Abbott, "and grasped a banner. At that 
moment his horse fell dead beneath him, and half 
a dozen swords glittered above his head. With 
herculean strength and agility, he extricated himself 
from his fallen steed, leaped upon the horse of an 
Austrian officer behind the rider, plunged his sword 
through the body of the officer, and hurled him from 
his saddle; taking his seat, he fought his way back 
to his followers, having slain in the melee six of the 
Austrians with his own hand." 

Bravado is not self-trust. It is trying to get other 
people to trust you. When Louis of France said, 
"I am the State," he sought to impress the grandeur 
of himself, but it was an unconscious confession of 
his weakness. And yet how many a man gets on 
high-heeled shoes, puts a feather in his hat, and 
tries to make believe that he is a real actor. George 
Eliot says that " Man can do nothing without the 



SELF - RELIANCE, HI 

make-believe of a beginning." There, is a certain 
amount of make-believe in every thing one does, 
but it is not a mere make-believe to the man of 
genuine self-reliance. He will do all that he vows 
to do. It is bravado, or seems to be, in the eyes 
of others. With him it is true that 

" Man alone 
Can perform the impossible." 

That general who pitched his camp on an emience 
overlooking his vastly superior foe, and all night 
long marched his little band in front of his fires 
and then circled them in the darkness beyond the 
brow of the hill, bringing them round by the same 
path again — whom the enemy, seeing, thought to 
be a ceaseless inpouring of reinforcements and 
retired at daybreak in terror — exhibited the pure 
kind of self-trust. When Duke George threatened 
the life of Luther if he appeared at Worms, a friend 
warned the reformer, but he said, " I will go there, 
though for nine whole days running it rained Duke 
Georges!" when Catherine Douglas, to give James 
II an opportunity to escape from the conspirators, 
rushed to the door to adjust the great iron bar, 
and finding it gone, flung herself against the door 
and her arm into the bar socket, and held it there, 
until, being broken, it yielded, and the mob rushed 
over her fainting body; when Latimer burned first 
the hand that signed his recantation ; when Bruno 
told the Judges of the Inquisition after they had 
condemned him to die, " You are more afraid to pro- 



112 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

nounce my sentence than I am to receive it;" 
when Charles Sumner told Brown-Sequard not to 
administer narcotics if it lessened the curative powers 
a single degree, but to apply the red-hot irons to his 
spine — it was not bravado ; it was a supreme self-trust. 
Boasting is seldom the wont of self-reliance. Men 
possessing self-confidence in a commanding degree 
are only given to its assertion when there is manifest 
need. The sagacious statesman and intrepid warrior, 
William the Silent, was not called silent because he 
seldom spoke, but for restraining every emotion when 
the French King laid before him the plot to exter- 
minate those " accursed vermin," the Protestants. 
Incautious talking seems to make this virtue vapory. 
Our great generals are silent men, after the order 
of William. Our great writers are silent men, after 
the order of Shakspeare, who let so little be known 
of himself in connection with his works that many 
have questioned his authorship. Our greatest states- 
men are silent, like the Younger Pitt, who let so 
little be known of himself that his biographer was 
forced to gather from his servants and friends the 
story of his life. Of his thousand speeches not 
one had he preserved. Our greatest financiers are 
silent, like Vanderbilt, who controlled more interests 
than any man on Wall street, and yet was never 
seen on 'Change. Our greatest business men are 
silent, like P. T. Barnum, who says, " Be friendly with 
your friends, and courtly to all, but keep your own 
counsels, and rely on yourself as able to tend to your 
own business." 



SELF.RELIANOE. 113 

Ambition is a necessary adjunct to self-reliance; 
yet ambition must not be mistaken for self-reliance. 
It is a quality common to all men. Statesmen, com- 
manders, and kings have no monopoly of this article; 
the Digger Indian, the bootblack and the roustabout 
on the steamboat possess it also. The possession of 
it is torture to the cowardly soul, while to the self- 
dependent man it becomes a joyful driving-wheel to 
action. The inner soul of every schoolboy has 
dreams of place and power ; the unlettered swain 
fancies a coming exaltation in the world ; the pilfering 
waif that huddles in an alley from the storm, thinks 
on coming fame ; the galley-slave has visions of 
command flitting over his mind. So : the great mass 
of men hold burning desires for lofty places, but 
never rise above the dead level of the common life. 
^Esop was once a slave, but he felt that he was 
greater than his master, and steadily undertook 
what his conscious power told him he could do. 
Iadmon felt that he was too great for chains, and 
sent him from bondage to the court of Crcesus. And 
the just world will send every man to court whose 
determination equals his ambition. Recently when 
Fred. Douglass visited his old master, Auld, and the 
once master and slave talked and wept like brothers 
who had been long separated, Mr. Auld said he 
always felt that Douglass could never be retained in 
slavery, and intended to give him his freedom at 
some time. Distrust of self is holding more men in 
bondage to-day than any nation's code of slavery. 

It is not a Charles Sumner, of an old Boston 



114 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

family, reared in the Hub of intelligence; nor a 
Randolph, surrounded by adventitious circumstances; 
nor a John Stuart Mill, the one pupil of a talented 
father, who alone become distinguished in our times. 
Abraham Lincoln was a rail-splitter, Henry Wilson 
a shoemaker, Salmon P. Chase a farmer boy : with 
no one to trust but themselves, they conquered 
destiny, and went to the head of their nation and 
party. The life of Frederick Douglass affords a 
thrilling illustration of what determined self-reliance 
may do, for he had as far to climb to get to the spot 
where the poorest free white boy is born as that 
boy has to climb to be President of the nation. Nine 
out of ten of the college-educated young men would 
shudder and shrink from the resolution to become 
one of the first orators of the land ; and yet Douglass 
holds such a position, and, in reaching it, fought his 
way from slavery and a nameless hovel. The unfor- 
tunate incidents connected with the life of a slave he 
appeared to care little for. " I was seldom whipped, 
and never severely," he writes ; but he felt that 
slavery kept him from being a man, and this was 
misery. He decided that he would be a man, and 
with awful emphasis of character began to train him- 
self to that end. The good -hearted Miss Auld 
taught him to read, and then he started upon his 
career of knowledge by secretly purchasing the 
" Columbian Orator." " There," he says, " I met with 
one of Sheridan's mighty speeches on the subject of 
'Catholic Emancipation/ Lord Chatham's speech on 
the American war, and speeches by the great William 



SELF - RELIANCE. 115 

Pitt, and by Fox." These speeches confirmed his 
confidence in himself, and added to his limited stock 
of language, giving tongue to many interesting 
thoughts which had frequently flashed through his 
soul, but had died away for want of utterance. After 
many vexatious delays, and at the peril of his life, he 
fled from Baltimore, and finally landed in New Bed- 
ford. While he sawed wood, shoveled coal, and 
rolled oil casks, his mind was reaching onward. At 
the end of three years' residence in the North, he 
appeared on the platform at a convention held at 
Nantucket. His long-pent-up desires obtaining this 
first outlet, he rose above the occasion into the 
heights of masterly eloquence. He left the hall that 
night having triumphed over trained speakers, and 
given the world to know, what he had so long felt, 
that he was able for more than common duties. He 
soon visited England, and was received with the 
greatest enthusiasm. His courtly manner, oratorical 
voice, and cultivated speeches caused her learned 
heads to appreciate as they had never done before, 
what self-reliance, added to good abilities, was able 
to accomplish. 

He has indulged in a more caustic criticism of the 
life and habits of his own brethren than any other 
writer. He is a reformer of the most advanced 
school, always pleading that men must reform them- 
selves ; but his life is a greater comment on the 
potency of decision, perseverance and self-reliance 
than all the orations and essays he has ever given 
the world. 



116 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

It is no evidence of self-reliance to rush into a fray 
without being fully prepared for it. Self-reliance 
without cautiousness is but a sorry help in a hotly 
contested encounter. It is the remark of such men 
that they tremble before a struggle when not fully 
equipped, but like Wellington, when they have men 
and have them well fed they are not afraid to meet 
the enemy. General Sherman stood for this principle 
in the Northern army, as Stonewall Jackson did in 
the Southern. When Sherman went to Washington 
and offered his services, Secretary Cameron told him 
that the storm would soon subside, and they wouldn't 
need many troops. Sherman replied, "This thing 
is not the ebullition of feeling. It is the great settled 
conviction of mighty men, and there will be a long 
and desperate conflict before it is ended." But he 
met the disagreeable fate of the prophets of evil. 
He refused to have any thing to do with raising 
three-months' men, saying, "You might as well 
attempt to put out the flames of a burning house 
with a squirt-gun." After the war had progressed 
some months the Secretary of War asked, " How 
many troops do you need in your department? " " Sixty 
thousand," answered Sherman, "to drive the enemy 
out of Kentucky ; two hundred thousand to finish 
the war in this section." Forthwith the story went 
afloat that Sherman was crazy. Time proved that 
the sturdy general, who refused to give battle unless 
possessed of equal advantages with his enemies, was 
reckoning according to the strength of his host. 

This quality never uses undue haste in prepara- 



SELF ■ RELIANCE. 117 

tion. Conscious of its own power it bides its time. 
Hurry is an evidence of weakness. The young 
Persian general pitched at the enemy at daybreak 
and was whipped before breakfast ; but the old hero 
gave his men a warm breakfast, and having got 
every thing in readiness, sallied forth and regained 
the day. It requires uncommon nerve to hold steady 
until you see the whites of the enemy's eyes, but 
when the battery is opened it gives a deadly fire. 
Cicero determined at an early age that he would 
have a voice in the destiny of his country, and at 
fourteen left Aspinum for Rome, that he might be 
schooled to that end. He prostrated himself by 
the drudgery of his study under Archias, and then 
flung himself into the camp for three years, for a 
Roman statesman must be a trained soldier. Not 
until the age of twenty-seven did he make his first 
speech as a lawyer. His works have been used for 
nineteen hundred years. 

But all this catalogue is of little avail if you are 
leaning on some one else for assistance. Like that 
piece of flesh in the museum that has all the other 
qualities for a man but backbone, lopped over and 
quivering like a jelly-fish, so a man without self- 
reliance is never able to hold himself perpendicular 
and at rest. To decide upon his course and accept 
the responsibility of it without a tremor is what made 
Burke a great statesman. He said his impeachment 
of Warren Hastings would be either his crowning 
glory or his crowning shame, but that he felt able to 
make it his glory. When he delivered his impeach- 



118 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

ment speech, Hastings said he knew the force of that 
one man would convict him, and under the utterance 
of that awful sentence, " I impeach Warren Hastings," 
he was almost convicted. When the Douglas lay 
mortally wounded on the field of Otterburn, he 
ordered his name to be shouted by his followers. 
They were rallied by the name of him that knew 
only victory, and 

" The Douglas dead, his name hath won the field." 

The vast majority of men who have come to 
eminence have risen from the ranks. The field and 
forum, invention and science, have not received their 
brightest stars from the titled born ; their names 
have sprung from poverty and obscurity, by the aid 
of perseverance and self-reliance. The fable of the 
labors of Hercules is the type of all human doing 
and success. " You are a plebeian," said a patrician 
to Cicero. " I am a plebeian," said the eloquent 
Roman ; " the nobility of my family begins with me ; 
that of yours will end with you." The world jilted 
Dr. Johnson, but he snapped his big fingers at her 
folly and took his seat as the King of Literature. 
Their own ability, animated by their sublime self- 
reliance, made Wellington, Bonaparte and Caesar the 
heroes of the battle-field. It made Demosthenes, 
Chatham and Burke, Webster, Franklin and Calhoun 
the world's statesmen and orators. It made Palissy, 
Cuvier and Columbus, Howe, Humboldt and Living- 
stone the worlds inventors and discoverers. From 



SELF-RELIANCE, 119 

Croesus to Grant, those men who have won the most 
have relied the most upon themselves. 

We close this chapter with a somewhat long but 
sprightly episode taken from the life of Napoleon. 
This rare man furnishes a striking example of what 
a self-reliant man may accomplish. Without friends, 
and despising wealth, he lifted himself from orphan- 
age to be the architect of empires. The daring of 
his marches previous to the battle of Austerlitz, on 
which field he humbled three monarchs and sealed 
the peace of Europe for ten years, was his most 
brilliant exercise of this great faculty. Abbott fur- 
nishes a graphic picture of the campaign. Notwith- 
standing the victory at Ulm, Bonaparte was still in 
imminent peril. One hundred and sixteen thousand 
Russians were hurrying through the plains of Poland 
to meet him. From every quarter of Austria, 
columns of troops were in rapid march to unite with 
the Russians. Alexander of Russia repaired in 
person to Berlin to unite the army of Prussia with 
the allies. "At midnight, Alexander and Frederick 
William descended into the dark and dismal tomb of 
Frederick the Great. A single torch revealed the 
gloom of the regal mausoleum. Thus standing in 
the dead of night by the coffin of the renowned 
warrior, they bound themselves by a solemn oath to 
sustain the cause of the allied kings" against the 
growing encroachments of Bonaparte. 

England hastened thirty thousand troops to the 
scene of conflict. It was surely time for the young 
invader to retreat, or fortify himself and await the 



120 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

assault of his combined foes. But he audaciously 
pressed on into the very midst of impending destruc- 
tion. Like an inundation his victorious army rolled 
down the valley of the Danube, sweeping every thing 
before them. In three days he entered Munich, 
but he rested not for an hour : he allowed his dis- 
comfited foe not one moment to recover from their 
panic. "Forward to Vienna!" was the command. 
The impetuous torrent rolled resistlessly on. Austria 
was in consternation. Francis fled from his capital. 
The Austrians and Russians, retreating from the 
blows which fell so thick and heavily upon them, fled 
to join the army which Alexander was leading to the 
rescue. Bonaparte stood upon the heights which 
surrounded Vienna. From the prostrate city he 
replenished his needy stores. In twenty days he had 
marched from the ocean to the Rhine ; in forty days 
from the Rhine to Vienna. 

But Bonaparte, though thus victorious, was in a 
situation critical in the extreme, " Europe deemed 
him irretrievably ruined. He was hundreds of 
leagues from his own capital. It was cold and icy 
winter. With a small army, he was in the heart of 
the most powerful monarchy on the globe. Seventy 
thousand Austrians were approaching him from the 
south; eighty thousand Hungarians were rushing to 
the conflict; one hundred thousand Russians were 
but a few days' march before him. His rear was 
exposed to assault from two hundred thousand Prus- 
sians. Surely he will stop and fortify himself behind 
the ramparts of Vienna. But, no ! the command is 



SELF- RELIANCE. 121 

still, 'Onward! Onward!!' Not a moment was 
allowed for repose. The cold winds of winter now 
swept the plains; the driving snow whitened the 
hills. Still the indomitable host pressed on, till 
amid the dark storms of the north it had disappeared 
from the observation of France. Upon the field of 
Austerlitz, fifteen hundred miles from the capital of 
France, Bonaparte met his foes. An army of nearly 
one hundred thousand men, headed by the two 
Emperors, Alexander and Francis, flushed with 
anticipated victory, arrested the steps of the con- 
queror. Bonaparte had but seventy thousand men. 
Not an hour was to be lost. Horsemen and footmen 
were hurrying in uncounted thousands to add still 
greater strength to the allied hosts." 

On the first of December the self-reliant hero 
came in sight of his foe with " inexpressible delight." 
"To-morrow," said he, "before nightfall that army 
shall be my own." 

His soul kept pace with the growing majesty of 
the situation. He felt that the sheer force of his 
will could crush the advancing battalions of the 
enemy. "Soldiers!" he said, "I will myself direct 
all your battalions. I will keep myself at a distance 
from your fire. But should victory appear for a 
moment uncertain, you shall see your Emperor 
expose himself to the first strokes. Victory must 
not be doubtful on this occasion." At sunrise he 
sounded the charge. From an eminence he directed 
every movement of his troops. He could rely on 
no one but himself. The French army hurled itself 



122 



SUCCESS IN LIFE. 



upon the allies with the same spirit that had animated 
their desperate march. Bonaparte stood the calmest 
man in all the conflict, "watching the onset of his 
eagles." And before noon he closed the war " with 
a clap of thunder." 




If thou canst plan a noble deed, 

And never flag till it succeed, 

Though in the strife thy heart should bleed, 

Whatever obstacles control, 

Thine hour will come — go on, true soul! 

Thou'lt win the prize, thou'lt reach the goal. 

— Mackay. 

In helpless indecisions lie 
The rocks on which we strike and die. 
Twere better far to choose the worst 
Of life's ways than to be accursed 
With indecision. Turn and choose 
Your way, then all the world refuse. 

— Joaquin Miller. 




CHAPTER VI. 



DECISION. 




IFE is not a dead level, with a humdrum 
routine of regularly recurring duties. It is 
a world of diversified features, over which active, 
earnest men in multitudes are deploying, through 
ravines, around ambuscades, fording fierce rivers, 
resisting flank movements, and charging down the 
open field. Every step involves fresh perplexities ; 
every movement reveals new obstacles which must 
be promptly met and conquered, or they will conquer. 
The contest demands men of instantaneous power. 
The pushing wheels of time will not wait for the 
man who falters and hesitates, and whose constant 
cry is, " Time ! time to deliberate !" They only roll 
for the man whose momentum of character is such 
that it swings off with them at the same speed and 
ease. They can brook no clogs. The soil they 
sweep over is virgin, and they scatter opportunities 
never offered before. In bold-cut characters, victory 
appears at their figure-head, and with impatient rush 
they bound toward their goal. 

Mastery belongs to the men who perceive the 

I2S 



126 SUCCESS IN LIFE, 

relations of things at a glance — men who grasp the 
march of events, with all their immensity of details, 
dash them into the scales, weigh them, announce the 
result and their determination in the case, before 
the world conceives of an advantage taken or an 
issue formed. Suppose such men do sometimes miss 
the mark as to judgment ; they load and fire again 
before the target can be examined. Or, even if 
defeated, there is a ring of conquest in their defeat. 
Their rapid recognition of failure, and prompt with- 
drawal for another stroke, there or elsewhere, is 
often itself the insurance of victory. When Sherman 
was baffled at Vicksburg, he instantly sailed up 
Red River and took Arkansas Post. This was done 
so promptly that the same vessel served to carry 
both items of war news to New York. 

All men have the seeds of decision within them, 
and it is as capable of cultivation as any other 
faculty. Yet so few are characterized as decisive, 
that to be so is to be called great. It is indispensa- 
ble to manly grandeur. Who ever heard of a great 
man being devoid of it ? Nevertheless, it does not 
come to maturity without labor, and to some not 
without great travail. Dr. Adam Clarke and Jeremy 
Bentham, both mighty minds, were strangely deficient 
in decision. What they lacked by nature, however, 
they made up by assiduous training. They well 
knew that without this fortune-favoring trait the 
toil of their lives would be stamped with infirmity. 
Without a certain degree of practical force, com- 
pounded of decision, which is the root, and wisdom, 



DECISION. 127 

which is the stem, of character, life is abortive. 
Being may be compared to two bodies of water, 
one of which, stagnant and purposeless, is offensive 
to sentient life; the other, a swelling, pushing 
stream, is able to give motion to the machinery of 
a district. 

No man who lacked decision has ever made his 
mark in the world. Force of character is worth 
more to a man than all the learning Yale and 
Harvard are able to give him. A profound know- 
ledge of the occult sciences given to a man who 
has no basic strength of character, is much like 
planting acorns in the sandy desert and expecting 
oaks to grow. There is no vitalizing power in the 
man. With his intellect developed, and his will- 
power dwarfed, he goes blundering through life in 
a hunch-bac'c sort of way, to be finally wrecked in 
some undertaking; while a man with half his brains 
and acquired lore, but who possesses decision, pushes 
ahead of him to victory. On the high shore of 
aspiration how many magnificent barks lie stranded. 
Hope, intellect, culture, intention, they had, but they 
perished, for they lacked strength of character. So 
repeatedly true is this that the world has come to 
recognize it as a truism that all the great men are 
self-made men. It is true that conflicts with poverty 
and other adverse circumstances develop a sinewy 
determination that is scarcely obtainable in any other 
school. The strokes of outrageous fortune have 
created in many instances what all other training, 
and nature itself, had not given. Men have trembled 



128 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

on the brink of every undertaking, until dire calamity 
forced them to act; then, when their clutched hammer 
descended, earth felt the stroke. Horace said he 
could decide on no course of life until poverty 
drove him to Virgil and to poetry. When the 
Archbishop of Toledo visited Madrid he expressed 
a desire to meet the learned Cervantes. He was 
told that Cervantes had borne arms in the service 
of his country, and was now old and poor. " What," 
exclaimed the Frenchman, " is not Senor Cervantes 
in good circumstances? Why is he not maintained, 
then, out of the public treasury?" " Heaven forbid!" 
was the reply, "that his necessities should ever be 
relieved, if it is those which make him write; since 
it his poverty that makes the world rich." 

To give character the dignity which belongs to 
it one must be swift to execute what he resolves 
upon. This is possible to all men, although not 
equally easy to all. The stature of perfect manhood 
is attained only by effort, and decision with many 
persons is their weak spot. Hence patience and 
labor must be expended to build up and strengthen 
this necessary qualification. No one is vested with 
all the faculties in perfection. No one is so clothed 
upon that every garment gratifies the eye by its 
beauty. Manhood is a growth ; and will-power is 
an outgrowth of every thing else. It is the top 
blossom on the tree. When you behold it, lo, the 
season for fruit is at hand. Cultivate every quality, 
then, that can in any respect promote the prosperity 
of this. Clip the wings of your ambition, and train 



DECISION. 129 

it to less pretentious flights. Dissipate not a good 
intention by thronging it about with a complex 
multitude • of frivolous desires. Be not drawn aside 
just as you are making ready for the spring, by the 
fluttering of a fear or the bubbling up of a doubt. 
Let not decision be cheated of its crown by that 
trickster, Variety, ever eager and quick to leap into 
the place of an ascending rival. Play not the harlot 
with licentious Choice. Pause not for a clear way. 
Never leap into the dark. 

The ability to resolve and determine will come 
slowly at first. You will find yourself a thousand 
times mistaking desire and intention for it. Grad- 
ually the power will grow upon you. After a while 
the whole nature will undergo re-creation. All the 
conflicts of life will assume a different aspect. You 
will vanquish opposition in a way that once appeared 
impossible. You will surmount barriers heretofore 
impassable. You will covet difficulties on which 
you may whet your blade to a keener edge. You 
will take your place among those who manufacture 
the opinions and open up the highways of mankind. 
The gods favor the men who know how to resolve. 

Promptness of decision is one of the first things 
to cultivate in order to do away with that extrav- 
agant overgrowth of purpose that proves fatal to 
so many. Strength which should be expended in 
deeds is too frequently lost in dreams. Day by 
day goes by occupied in idle reveries. Men oft 
fall into trances. They assume the clairvoyant 
state. With supple skill they construct a paradise 



130 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

of purposes. But their paradise is defective and they 
must mend it. Between impracticable planning and 
actionless purpose they hang suspended between 
heaven and earth, like King Trisancu when the 
Brahmans said "rise!" and the gods of Swerga said 
"fall!" Thus they busy themselves, hatching and 
patching, until indignant life bursts upon them 
suddenly, lashing them with a whip of scorpions. 

"Be wise to-day: 'tis madness to defer. 
Next day the fatal precedent will plead." 

Richter said that Luther's words were half-battles. 
This is because they were half-deeds. With him, to 
will was to execute; to speak was to act. He had 
thrown himself into the breach, to meet the spear of 
war or to drive the foe from the field. And whenever 
one does this he approaches the very summit of his 
being. If ever a man is godlike it is then. Destiny 
itself bends to his imperious will; and "fate seems 
strangled in his nervous grasp." Under such prompt- 
ings resolution crystallizes as quickly as water at 
zero. He moves along with intrepidity. Every thing 
that he touches is transmuted into power. Quicksand 
routes become granite ; inaccessible mountains, 
inviting plains. Natures forces crumble at his 
bidding. Human beings, under the spell of his 
magic, crouch at his feet, and, daring to scale the 
mountains which bar his pathway, he reaches even 
to the stars. 

A man's virtues are the greater part of his capital 
when dealing with destiny. There is power in 



DECISION, 131 

uprightness oi life before which nothing mean can 
stand. In it is a lire that burns away the dross from 
one's own character. u Unless man can erect him- 
self above himself, how poor a thing is man ! " Honor 
and integrity both erect and uphold one : they give 
independence to action. One that fears not to sit in 
criticism upon himself and condemn each delinquency 
is prepared to go out without hesitancy to others 
and admonish them ; and one that can conquer him- 
self stands a better chance to conquer others, for in 
his self-struggle he has gained knowledge which he 
can utilize for the benefit of his fellows. 

Circumstances, also, are elements out of which 
character is compactly built. It used to be a question, 
in our boyhood, Is man the creature of circumstance, 
or circumstance the creature of man ? This is not 
the way to put it. Neither horn of the dilemma is 
either true or false. Each holds a half-truth: some- 
times we drive and sometimes we are driven. Men 
are not always equal to themselves, as respects 
circumstances. Some preserve their equilibrium 
much better than others, almost uniformly molding 
their surroundings happily; but even with them there 
arise dark occasions upon which they are battled 
and defeated, Even he who earned the right, if ever 
uninspired man did, to say, " Circumstances ! I create 
circumstances !'' found out his mistake at Waterloo. 
Neither are men equal to each other. " Our strength 
is measured by our plastic power," says Goethe's 
biographer. " From the same materials one man 
builds palaces, another hovels ; one warehouses, 



132 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

aaother villas. Bricks and mortar are mortar and 
bricks, unless the architect can make them something 
else. Thus it is that in the same family, in the came 
circumstances, one man rears a stately edifice, while 
his brother, vacillating and incompetent, lives forever 
amid ruins. The block of granite which was an 
obstacle on the pathway of the weak becomes a 
stepping-stone on the pathway of the strong." 

There is no calling in which prompt decision is 
not sometimes imperiously needed. If a man could 
always stay in his study, plan out his schemes in 
meditative moods, and then put them into execution, 
completing them in the solitariness of his cell, all 
men would be heroes ; but to go forth before the 
world with that quietly-planned project, and under- 
take to execute it in the face of circumstances not 
counted on, and meet the coup -de-main of some 
brilliant competitor, is quite another thing. There 
are times in the life of every man when a little flexi- 
bility of character is worth his reputation. It often 
occurs with actors that some mistake is made or a 
part is overdone; the gallery is pleased or displeased 
by it, and the "gods" raise the yell. Not to be equal 
to the emergency is ruin. When Sothern stumbled 
awkwardly on the stage, a hoot was raised. But he 
possessed himself in quiescence, seeing he must make 
them believe it was acting. In the next scene he 
repeated it in a more lumbering way than before. 
This time he brought the house into his arms in a 
burst of applause, and he has been master of the 
situation ever since. There are unlooked-for oppor- 



DECISION. 133 

tunities arising constantly between disputants on the 
stump, where one by keeping his wits about him, and 
a ready tact, may utterly demolish his opponent, 
when otherwise he would come off worsted. It is 
related of the late Judge Wilson that, when stumping 
it for Congress in one of the interior counties, his 
competitor kept the audience in a roar of laughter at 
the Judge's expense. The Judge was no adept at 
this kind of warfare, and felt that the day was against 
him. He solemnly advanced on the platform to 
reply, and poured out a half dozen of his ponderous 
sentences upon the amused audience, when his 
opponent pulled his coat-tails, whispering that he 
was sick, and wished to retire a moment. "Certainly," 
said the Judge, and commenced rolling out another 
leviathan sentence. It was about half gone when he 
appeared to notice, for the first time, his opponent 
facing the audience and hastening out by the aisle. 
He stopped short, threw back his portly self, and, 
with a rollicking laugh, shook his big hand at the 
hurrying form, and shouted, "He runs! He flies! 
He can't stand fire ! He's sick ! ! " 

At such a crisis as this a head crammed with 
unavailable learning is as useless as a loaded but 
fuseless bombshell. And what multitudes of men are 
placed in this predicament ! 

Mark Twain 'being once toasted at a supper, rose 
with alacrity to respond. He replied: "I can talk! 
I can make a fine speech! In fact, I am eloquent! 
Why, I am an orator, but I haven't my oratory with 
me this evening; I left it at home." With Twain 



134 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

this would do ; for the flashes of his silence, height- 
ened as they are by his pantomime, sparkle with 
eloquence. But, on the whole, that which one does 
not bring along with him in life is poorly placed to 
be ready in an emergency. A physician often needs 
oreat decisiveness of character. Called to the bed- 
side of one who is taken dangerously ill, and who is 
affrighted by possible death, he must be cool and 
collected as an ice-crystal. The case demands heroic 
treatment both from the man and the medicine. 
Were a Brown-Sequard to falter in such an instance 
for a moment, the consequence would be as fatal as 
if he were a tyro fresh from the medical school. A 
man must be ready for emergencies. If not, nothing 
remains for him but to drop out of competition, like 
a broken-kneed horse on a race-track. Presence of 
mind and intrepidity of character are essentials to 
great success. Men must be soldier-like, and rest on 
their arms, ready to spring up and fire on the instant. 
Dr. John Brown, in speaking of this quality, well 
observes : " It is a curious condition of mind that this 
requires. It is like sleeping with your pistol under 
your pillow, and the pistol on full cock; a moment 
lost, and all may be lost. There is the very nick of 
time. Men, when they have done some signal feat 
of presence of mind, if asked how they did it, do not 
very well know — they just did it. It was, in fact, 
done, and then thought of; not thought of and then 
done, in which case it would likely never have been 
done at all. It is one of the highest powers of mind 
thus to act; it is done by an acquired instinct." 



DECISION. 135 

The man who lacks this quality belongs to who- 
ever may capture him. He always thinks of the 
right thing to do when the moment for action has 
passed. An English king has handed his name 
down to us as Athelstane the Unready. Those three 
words write his history. It is a trader's saying that, 
an article is worth whatever it will bring; so, men 
are worth to themselves and the world the extent of 
their accomplishments. The world justly estimates 
men by their conquests, not by their assumed ability 
to conquer. The man who only half decides to-day, 
drifts into another course to-morrow, and the next 
day foregoes the matter altogether, is like a chip 
floating down the river, whirled by every eddy, halted 
by a floating leaf, and veered by every vagrant 
ripple ; not the stern vessel that bears its great 
wheels against the wave, and against current and 
storm drives on to its harbor. The character of such 
a dawdler may be as spotless as that of Charles V 
of Germany, who could, at one time, have crushed 
the Reformation ; but it is so mixed with half-heart- 
edness and slowness of decision that, ere he suspects 
it, a mightier than himself has sprung up in his 
dominion, who will bind him hand and foot. A man 
is either to rule or be ruled : he must conquer or be 
conquered. Let him, then, arm himself to meet 
events as they change front and form, and muster 
them into his own service. 

When some one who by accident occupies a 
leading place, proves himself unfit at a critical hour, 
opportunity is given to subordinates. We have 



136 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

known cases in the army when sergeants by one deft 
stroke decapitated lieutenants and assumed the 
shoulder-straps. This is often done in legislative 
assemblies. That courtly statesman, John Quincy 
Adams, would flash his brilliant saber through a 
serious problem that was hanging in political contest, 
and render a verdict before the common statesman 
could comprehend the importance of the situation. 
Once, when party spirit ran high, and a rupture of 
the Union was imminent, on the convening of 
Congress the clerk refused to call the House together. 
It was his duty to call the roll, ascertain if a 
quorum was present, and on his favorable report 
the Speaker must formally declare Congress opened. 
Sectional feeling increased every moment, good men 
were becoming distressed in view of the significant 
consequences that would surely ensue. All knew the 
constitutional quorum was present, and yet one 
lawless hand was throttling the good purposes of a 
nation. Mr. Adams hastily arose, after a futile 
parley with the refractory Clerk, and moved that the 
" House of Representatives be declared co'nvened." 
" But the Clerk has not announced a quorum," cried 
the opposition, "and, then, there is no one to put the 
question." "/ announce that there is a quorum," 
replied Adams, " and / will see that this House is able 
to convene itself? So saying, he mounted the desk 
and put the question. The convened Congress then 
proceeded to its momentous duties. 

So it has happened in military matters that one 
determined subordinate has saved the day. When 



DECISION. 137 

the little armaments of Sparta and Athens found 
themselves completely surrounded by the navy of the 
Hellespont hero, they were ready to strike colors on 
the order. But Themistocles, in whose breast the 
achievements of Miltiades burned, urged upon 
Eurybiades the feasibility and the necessity of 
attacking the enemy. The Spartan chief scouted 
the idea of attacking such an overwhelming arm- 
ament, and, at last, indignant that he should be 
thus dictated to, raised his cane to strike the Athe- 
nian. "Strike," said Themistocles, "strike, but 
hear me! 1 Themistocles was heard. The attack 
was made, and the liberties of Greece were 
secured. 

It is particularly true on the field of battle that 
fortune alights on the standard of the o-eneral 
possessing prompt decision. It is true that many 
battles turn "on one or two rapid movements 
excuted amid the whirl of smoke and thunder of 
guns that jar the solid globe." A general will pour 
his iron phalanxes over a declivity according to 
his well-planned order of battle, but in nearly every 
instance the foe fails to present himself as expected. 
If he can change his whole plan under the shadow of 
the enemy's guns, and defile his sullen columns 
along a new path, taking the awful havoc of their 
shot and shell until his freshly manned lines are 
again formed, and then charge down upon the foe, 
few armies will be found able to withstand the 
newly formed front, and the added force of such 
movements. But if he doggedly adheres to his old 



138 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

plan, and waits for Grouchy to come up and help 
him out, the wily foe will have the day. 

It was in such moments as these that the genius of 
Bonaparte shone forth in its highest luster. His mind, 
acting like lightning, never acted more rapidly and ac- 
curately than on the field of battle, when surrounded 
by smoke and carnage, and the destiny of armies 
and nations was resting upon the result of a single 
charge. "Not until after the terrible passage of 
the bridge of Lodi did the idea shoot across my 
mind that I might become a decisive actor in the 
worlds arena," says the matchless Corsican. The 
flying Austrians passed through the town of Lodi 
by the bridge over the Adda, where they had heavy 
batteries posted on the opposite banks, with their 
range sweeping the bridge and town. To drive 
the enemy to his stronghold and then retire was 
to the mind of Bonaparte virtual defeat. To cross 
the bridge and rout the Austrians would be a 
victory signal and of vast importance. He announced 
to his officers that they would storm the bridge at 
once. "It is impossible," said one, "that any men 
can force their way across that narrow bridge, in 
the face of such a storm of balls as must be 
encountered." "How impossible!" exclaimed Bona- 
parte ; " that word is not French." 

He immediately dispatched a body of cavalry to ford 
the river at a crossing three miles above the town, 
which the Austrians had unaccountably neglected to 
protect, and ordered them to make a most desperate 
charge upon the rear of the enemy. He then assembled 



DECISION, 139 

six thousand picked troops under shelter of one of 
the streets nearest the point of attack, and addressed 
them in his martial eloquence, until they clamored 
to be led to the assault. It was evening. Not a 
breath of air rippled the smooth surface of that 
water, so soon to be dyed with the blood of these 
heroic men. 

The moment that Bonaparte's eagle eye per- 
ceived by the commotion among the Austrians 
that his cavalry had crossed the ford and were 
pressing on their rear, he ordered the trumpets to 
sound the charge. The line wheeled into solid 
column; then, bursting from their shelter in a full 
run and rending the air with their shouts, they rushed 
upon the bridge. They were met by a murderous 
discharge of artillery. The structure was swept 
as with a whirlwind. The whole head of the column 
was cut down like grass before the scythe. Still 
the surviving part of the column pushed on until it 
reached the middle of the bridge. Here it wavered. 
That volcanic burst of fire was too terrible for mortal 
men to endure. Bonaparte saw the crisis had 
come ; so, seizing a standard, he plunged through 
the clouds of smoke, and over the bleeding bodies 
to the head of the faltering column and shouted, 
" Follow your general." 

The mangled column, animated anew by this 
example, rushed with fixed bayonets upon the 
Austrian gunners. At the same moment the 
French cavalry came dashing upon the batteries 
in the rear, and the bridge was carried. The 



140 SUCCESS IN LIFE, 

French army now poured across the narrow pass- 
age like a torrent, and deployed upon the plain. 
Still the battle raged with unmitigated fury. 
The Austrians hurled themselves upon the French 
with the energy of despair. But the troops of Bona- 
parte, intoxicated with their amazing achievement, 
set all danger at defiance, and seemed as regardless 
of bullets and shells as if they had been snow-balls 
in the hands of children. 

One battery remained impregnable, and dealt 
terrible havoc among the ranks of the French. 
Every effort to storm it had proved futile. An 
officer rode to Bonaparte, and cried, "That battery 
will be our ruin." "Let it be silenced, then," said 
Bonaparte. Turning to a body of dragoons, near 
by, he exclaimed, " Follow me." Off they flew 
to the impetuous charge, their leader ahead, 
through showers of grape-shot, carrying mutilation 
and death into their ranks, and threw themselves, 
with a shout, upon the battery. The Austrian gun- 
ners were instantly sabered, and their guns turned 
upon the foiled and beaten foe. 

This splendid achievement dismayed Austria, and 
inspired all France. This battle was won by a series 
of movements conceived under the very guns of an 
overwhelming foe, and executed with an awful 
celerity, amid the whirl of smoke and deadly belch 
of rock - fortressed cannon. Bonaparte saw and 
grasped instantly the unprotected ford. He risked 
the flower of his cavalry to disconcert the Austrian 
rear. He then, by his eloquence, fired his men to 



DECISION. 141 

charge the bridge. All would have been lost again 
when they halted on the bridge, if he had not on the 
spot decided that he, as standard-bearer, could renew 
their enthusiasm. And, finally, the immediately 
conceived and instantly executed charge upon the 
"impregnable battery" crowned the climax of suc- 
cessive maneuvers, every one of which was contrary 
to established tactics, taking the enemy completely 
by surprise, and winning the imperishable victory. 
** This beardless youth," said an Austrian general, 
indignantly, "ought to have been beaten over and 
over again ; for who ever saw such tactics ! The 
blockhead knows nothing of the rules of war. 
To-day he is in our rear, to-morrow on our flank, 
and the next day again in our front. Such gross 
violations of the established usages of war are 
insufferable." 

At the close of his career Bonaparte was guilty of 
the same mistake of which he used to accuse the 
Austrians : he ceased to recognize the value of a 
moment. The swiftness of decision and promptness 
of action that had characterized him heretofore were 
wanting at Waterloo. With the failure to exercise 
this power at Waterloo, he relinquished his prestige 
as the man of destiny, and was retired to the rocky 
retreat of St. Helena. 

Wellington's decisiveness and promptitude on the 
field manifested itself to the very end of his military 
life. For this reason he never lost a battle. Never, 
perhaps, did his promptness stand out so singularly 
grand as on the field of Waterloo, where he defeated 



142 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Bonaparte, exterminated the French army, and ship- 
wrecked the Empire. 

On the 15th of June, the campaign began. Wel- 
lington was attending a brilliant ball, given by the 
Duchess of Richmond, at Brussels, when a courier 
suddenly entered and informed him that Bonaparte 
had crossed the frontier, and was within ten miles of 
Brussels. The Duke thought him to be reveling in 
the gayety of Paris. The energies of the Iron Duke 
were immediately aroused to their utmost tension. 
He hastily retired with all his officers. Bugles 
sounded, drums beat, soldiers rallied, and the whole 
mighty host, cavalry, artillery, infantry and field 
trains, were in an hour careering through the dark 
and flooded streets of Brussels. To Quatre-Bras, 
fifteen miles away, a point of eminent importance, 
Wellington hasted. For three days it had rained. 
Through the whole night the inundation of war rolled 
along the road. Ney, to whom Bonaparte had said, 
" Enter Quatre-Bras this night at all hazards : the 
destiny of France is in your hands" slumbered on 
his arms a few hours, and from the heights, next 
morning at early dawn, saw the smoke of Welling- 
ton's camp-fires quietly encircling that key to victory. 

Bonaparte pushed his own forces on to Ligny, 
where he encountered Blucher, and gave the Prus- 
sians what Wellington called " an awful threshing." 
While the victorious Bonaparte rested eight hours, 
giving the defeated Prussians time to flee to Wavre, 
and collect their forces for another battle, the wily 
Wellington grasped his opportunity and rushed to 



DECISION. 143 

Waterloo on a line parallel to that taken by his 
retreating allies. Here he selected his ground, 
entrenched himself, and then decoyed Bonaparte to 
this, his only unshattered enemy, for a last conflict 
The next day at eleven o'clock Bonaparte opened 
fire, but it was on an enemy vastly reinforced, and 
who had occupied every hour in perfecting his 
intrenchments. Jerome's division hurled itself against 
Hougoumont. Column after column swept down 
the ridge and assailed it with fiery valor ; " but it was 
like butting their heads against a wall." In a few 
hours forty thousand of the combatants were welter- 
ing in their gore. The field was swept with an unin- 
termitted storm of balls, shells, bullets, and grape- 
shot, while enormous masses of cavalry, influent and 
refluent surges, trampled into the bloody mire the 
dying and the dead. The two generals from their 
lofty positions surveyed these stubborn, terrible 
charges, and felt that the destiny of Europe hung 
on the issue of that day's battle. 

In the midst of these awful scenes, as portions of 
Wellington's lines were giving way, and when Bona- 
parte felt sure of victory, the quick eyes of both 
generals discerned an immense mass of men, more 
than thirty thousand strong, emerging from the 
forest ; and with rapid step deploying upon the plain. 
The Emperor was sanguine that it was Marshal 
Grouchy, and that the battle was decided. The 
Duke was sure it was Blucher hastening from 
Wavre with his recuperated forces, according to 
their agreement. Another moment and the artillery 



14-1 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

balls began to plow the Emperor's ranks and he 
knew it was Blucher come to the rescue of Wel- 
lington. 

Then it was that in the madness of despair he 
ordered the Old Guard to the charge. But what could 
this feeble band now do to stem such a torrent ? " The 
allies were pouring, wave after wave, across the plain ; 
five squares of the French were broken, and cut to 
pieces ; and now the effect produced on the rest of 
the French army by the repulse of the Guard and the 
sudden onslaught of Zieten, was completed by the 
general advance, for which Wellington, with the 
instinct of genius, suddenly forsook his attitude of 
defense ; and, as Blucher's victorious legions were 
pouring across the sole line of retreat, while the last 
reserves of the French had been exhausted, the defeat 
was turned into a panic and a rout unparalleled in 
history." 

The eagle was no longer in the keeping of the 
gods, because Bonaparte no longer acted with decis- 
ion and promptness. The Bonaparte of Lodi would 
have pursued the Prussians between Ligny and 
Wavre, and annihilated them, and then, having 
united with Grouchy, would have fallen on Welling- 
ton like a thunderbolt and utterly ruined the allied 
forces. Or, failing to unite with Grouchy, he would 
have fallen on Wellington at sunrise, as he did on 
the allied forces at Austerlitz, and have routed and 
scattered him before eleven o'clock. This he did 
not do. Wellington, whose decision and promptness 
never failed him, was astonished at Bonaparte's leth- 



DECISION. 145 

argy, and with unerring celerity took advantage of it. 
He then forced Bonaparte to fight him in his own 
well selected and strongly fortified position. He 
avoided battle as long as possible, thus giving his 
allies opportunity to draw near him, and render assist- 
ance if necessary. Finally, Blucher appeared at the 
critical moment, when Wellington with consummate 
adroitness forsook his attitude of defense, and 
ordered the consolidated lines to advance, withdraw- 
ing, however, his mutilated corps from the fiercest 
points of the onset. The French threw their des- 
perate and shattered squares against that fresh and 
solid mass of guns and men in vain. They went 
down like the cities of the plain under the fire rained 
from heaven. Wellington won Waterloo by his 
superior tact and decision, and sent the maker of 
thrones and princes weeping to Paris. 

Men who make a great ado are not generally 
capable of iron decisions. It is in this that blusterers 
exhibit their incapacity. Sir Philip Sidney was the 
pattern to all England of a perfect gentleman, and 
also for decision of character. Bonaparte undertook 
the conquest of Russia with less ado than half the 
merchants when they lay in their spring stock of 
goods. Stonewall Jackson and General Sherman, 
men of quickness of perception and rare determina- 
tion, were very quiet about all their undertakings. 
An illustration of the Iron Duke's characteristic 
qualities is the reply which he is said to have made 
when in danger of shipwreck. It was bed-time, when 
the captain of the vessel, in great affright, came to 

IO 



146 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

him and said, " It will soon be all over with us." 
"Very well," was the reply, " then I shall not take off 
my boots." 

Decision of mind needs to have united to it a 
determination to accomplish a laudable undertaking. 
It not unfrequently occurs that men endowed with 
great natural decision of character fritter their ener- 
gies away on unworthy objects. Beau Brummel had 
as much natural resolution as Julius Caesar, but 
he put it all into the adjustment of his cravat; Nero 
had as much as Themistocles, but he used it to 
despoil his country ; and Charles Lamb evinced 
more determination when he spent weeks dictating 
a humorous letter to a friend than Walter Scott 
exhibited when he was throwing off forty pages of 
Waverley per day. A noble aim is necessary to bring 
out the worth of decision. 

Literary men are more apt to lack decision than 
men who have to deal with armies or even ordinary 
practical business matters. A melancholy example 
of this is furnished by the life of Thomas DeQuincey, 
who, his famous eulogist has said, "possessed one of 
the most potent and original spirits that ever dwelt 
in a tenement of clay." At an early age he conceived 
a profound contempt for his pompous tutor, and 
when his guardians refused to permit him to leave 
the Manchester pedant, he ran away at night with a 
copy of an English poet in one pocket, and nine 
plays of Euripides in the other, and began his wan- 
derings. Sometimes he stopped in fine hotels ; 
sometimes his supper was composed of berries, and 



DECISION. 147 

then under the shade of a haystack he mused himself 
to sleep counting the stars. Soon after this, his 
relatives started him to school, and in two years' 
time his progress had been so rapid that we hear his 
classical professor saying to a stranger, " That boy 
could harangue an Athenian mob better than you or 
I could address an English one." Shortly after this, 
when he fancied the learned Bishop of Bangor had 
given him an insult, we find him gravely weighing 
the propriety of addressing the distinguished prelate 
a remonstrance in Greek. He went to Oxford to be 
examined for admission, and passed the first day's 
trial so triumphantly that one of the examiners said 
to a resident of Worcester College : "You have sent 
us to-day the cleverest man I ever met ; if his viva 
voce examination, to-morrow, correspond with what 
he has done in writing, he will carry every thing 
before him." DeQuincey, however, did not wait to 
be questioned further ; but, for some reason — it may 
have been, as usual, without any reason — he packed 
his trunk, and walked away from Oxford, never to 
return. He now began to apply himself seriously to 
study, having broken up his opium habit. At thirty 
we find him a thorough scholar. His mind seemed 
to be a vast magazine, admirably arranged ; every 
thing was there, and every thing was in its place. 
Scholars and literati sought him, for he was a living 
cyclopedia. He was accurate : his judgments on 
men, on sects, on books, he had carefully tested and 
weighed, and then committed each to its proper 
receptacle in the most capacious and accurately 



148 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

constructed memory that any human being ever 
possessed. No man ever went to DeQuincey and 
asked for any thing that was not to be found in that 
immense storehouse. His essayist has said: "At 
once colossal and keen, DeQuincey's intellect seems 
capable of taking the profoundest view of men and 
things, and of darting the most piercing glances into 
details ; it has an eagle's eye to gaze at the sun, and 
the eye of a cat to glance at things in the dark ; is 
quick as a hawk to pounce upon a brilliant falsehood, 
yet as slow as a ferret to pursue a sophism through all 
its mazes and sinuosities. Now, meditative in gentle 
thought, and anon, sharp in analytic criticism ; now, 
explaining the subtle charm of Wordsworth's poetry, 
and again, unraveling a knotty point in Aristotle, or 
cornering a lie in Josephus; to-day, penetrating the 
bowels of the earth with the geologist; to-morrow, 
soaring through the stellar spaces with the astrono- 
mer — it seems exactly fitted for every subject it 
discusses, and reminds you of the elephant's lithe 
proboscis, which with equal dexterity can uproot an 
oak or pick up a pin." Of this universality of his 
genius one who knew him well says, that in theology 
his knowledge was equal to that of two bishops ; in 
astronomy he outshone Professor Nichol; in chem- 
istry he could outdive Samuel Brown ; and in Greek, 
excite to jealousy the shades of Porson and Samuel 
Parr. In short, to borrow an illustration of Macaulay, 
it is hardly an exaggeration to say of the Opium 
Eater's intellect, that it resembled the tent which the 
fairy Paribanou gave to Prince Ahmed — "Fold it, 



DECISION. 149 

and it seemed a toy for the hand of a lady ; spread 
it, and the armies of powerful sultans might repose 
beneath its shade." 

This man, who was conscious of his vast acquisi- 
tions, who knew himself to be the lion of learning, 
who said that he "lived on earth the life of a demi- 
urgus, and kept the keys of paradise," was thus pre- 
paring himself and for fifty-four long years getting 
ready to write a work on the human intellect. But 
such was his imbecility for carrying his lofty concep- 
tion into prompt execution that, after all the material 
had been gathered on the grounds, he did not lay 
the first stone of the superstructure. He could not 
sacrifice present inclinations to his grand ulterior 
purpose. He wrote that wonderfully curious produc- 
tion, " The Confessions of an Opium Eater." He 
wrote on Pope and Shakspeare, on " Political Econ- 
omy " and " Fun," " Criticisms," " Philosophical Essays " 
and " Biographical Sketches." Between these and 
talking nature to Wordsworth, transcendentalism to 
Coleridge, prose drudgery to Southey, walking with 
" peripatetic Stewart," joking with Charles Lamb, 
poking fun at George Dyer, and damning the literary 
world with Hazlitt, he passed his years until seventy- 
three, and was taken to his death-bed still hoping 
to have time to write his immortal work on the 
human intellect. Thus lived and died one of the 
most brilliant but impotent intellects the sun ever 
shone upon, his life frittered away by reason of his 
indecision and lack of promptness. 

Let no man delude himself with the belief that he 



150 8UGGESS IN LIFE 

will ultimately do much who is spending his present 
year on work of a third-rate character, neither worthy 
of his abilities nor justifying even in a moderate 
degree the expectations of his friends. The fatal 
defect of these years will fasten upon him like the 
grasp of a vise, and when the promised days of great 
undertakings come, he will find himself without 
inclination or ability to perform. The greater 
part of all the mischief in the world arises from the 
fact that men do not sufficiently understand their 
own aims. Let a man decide early upon what he 
wishes to do, and for what his talents fit him ; and 
then, like Franklin, let him put his mind continually 
into it. 

There are times when one should consider long 
and well before he renders a decision. In choosing a 
business or deciding on a place to carry on that busi- 
ness, there are many conflicting interests to be con- 
sidered, many delicate points to be examined and 
weighed, surrounding circumstances are to be put in 
the scale, and ones own health and culture become 
controlling factors. Under all conditions it is prefer- 
able to take time for consideration — a reasonable 
time — before the mind is permitted to render its ver- 
dict. The man who does this habitually, whose 
decision is a fixity, will find that when the avalanche 
of circumstances is hurled upon him, on some great 
occasion, the imminence of the moment will quicken all 
his faculties, and that a year's deliberative thought 
will drive through his brain on the instant, somewhat 
as memory comes back to a drowning man. At such 



DECISTOK. 



151 



times vast conceptions take form with facility. All 
the details of execution gather together, in rank and 
file, ready for action ; and when that sort of thing 
occurs, decide without delay, sound the charge, 
and shout, with Wellington, " Up, Guards ! and at 
them ! ' 



^S^ 





Gay. 



Culture 



Learning by study must be won, 
'Twas ne'er entailed from sire to son. 

Youth it instructs, old age delights, 

Adorns prosperity, and when 
Of adverse fate we feel the blights, 

'Twill comfort us and solace then. 

Watson. 

Is there one whom difficulties dishearten — who bends to the 
storm? He will do little. Is there one who will conquer? That 
kind of man never fails. — John Hunter. 

I freely told you all the wealth I had ran in my veins. — 
Shakspeare. 

He that has light within his own clear breast 
May sit in the center, and enjoy bright day. 

Milton. 




CHAPTER VII. 



CULTURE. 




F ever there is a time when one needs an 
old head on his shoulders it is when he 
stands on the threshold of manhood. If ever he 
needs the experience of an octogenarian it is in 
the years around twenty-one. Here he is, with the 
wide world before him, a business to choose, a 
standard to erect, foundations to lay, and health to 
care for. A step in the wrong direction may strand 
him for ever. A few years, now squandered away 
in riotous living, may leave sorry space for amend- 
ment. The customary solace of friends about the 
"wild oats and his settling down by and by," can 
only serve in countenancing one's profligacy, and 
hurrying him on the road to ruin. Don't take your 
sportive days at such distance from your destiny. 
Wait until you have made the trip. They will be 
better enjoyed when you have earned a title to them 
by protracted and honest toil. John Ruskin says: 
" In general I have no patience with people who 
talk about 'the thoughtlessness of youth' indul- 
gently; I had infinitely rather hear of thoughtless 



154 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

old age, and the indulgence due to that. When a 
man has done his work, and nothing can any way 
be materially altered in his fate, let him forget his 
toil, and jest with his fate, if he will ; but what excuse 
can you find for willfulness of thought at the very 
time when every crisis of fortune hangs on your 
decisions? A youth thoughtless, when all the happi- 
ness of his home for ever depends on the chances 
or the passions of an hour! A youth thoughtless, 
when the career of all his days depends on the 
opportunity of a moment! A youth thoughtless, 
when his every action is a foundation-stone of future 
conduct, and every imagination a fountain of life 
or death! Be thoughtless in any after years, rather 
than now; though, indeed, there is only one place 
where a man may be nobly thoughtless — his death- 
bed. Nothing should ever be left to be done there." 

We have known instances wherein men have made 
a little profitable excitement by attention to super- 
ficial details. Doctors have sometimes driven them- 
selves into notoriety with a pair of fast horses. 
Merchants, by their oozy, glozing words, have 
succeeded in selling large bills of goods. Lawyers 
have laughed juries into subjection with their witti- 
cisms. Orators have melted audiences down by the 
trill of an R or the rolling of an O. And yet, one of 
two things is true : Either the excitement died down 
like fire made from pine shavings, or else there were 
other qualifications behind, that gave substance to 
the success 

There must be something more than tinsel to 



VULTURE, 155 

clothe the man in who would secrete power in his 
outfit. Business calls for brains more than ever 
before. Clerkships nowadays to be worth any thing 
must be filled by men of gift and stanch accom- 
plishments. Otherwise they are nominal, endowing 
their owners with a legacy of poverty. There is 
something more needed than to be able to measure 
off ten yards of calico, light the chandeliers, and 
dangle the heels over the counter. The man who 
takes into his conceptions the mere contents of a 
modern dry-goods store — to say nothing of fur- 
nishing and managing it — is master not only of a 
knowledge of merchandise : he is an adept in nomen- 
clature, manufacture, commercial industries, trans- 
portation, and the geography of the world. And 
although all this knowledge may not be needed of 
him, yet to possess it indicates that he is some- 
what conscious of such a thing as progress, and that 
he proposes to be progressive, too. 

The same may be said of other hand-labor. Fifty 
years ago men were paid for strength of muscle. 
That was a gala-day for the giants. Now, muscle 
is at a discount, while skilled intellect and dexterous 
fingers are in demand. Engines and machines for 
field and shop, and for all sorts of business, glut 
the market. Thus is toil shortened and surplus 
human flesh discharged. The man who does not 
now bring mechanical genius to his assistance must 
suffer loss. No man can expect with a mortar 
and pestle to make headway against a modern 
flouring mill. Thought is the only thing that 



156 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

can win, and every pursuit is calling for men of 
mind. 

There is something practical, as well as something 
that charms, about culture. "It is not a small thing," 
says Beecher, " for a man to be able to make his 
hands light by supplementing them with his head. 
The advantage which intelligence gives a man is very 
great. It often increases one's mere physical ability 
full one-half. Active thought, or quickness in the 
use of the mind, is very important in teaching us 
how to use our hands rightly in every possible 
relation and situation in life. The use of the head 
abridges the labor of the hands. There is no 

o 

drudgery, there is no mechanical routine, there is 
no minuteness of function, that is not advantaged 
by education. If a man has nothing to do but to 
turn a grindstone, he had better be educated ; if a 
man has nothing to do but to stick pins on a paper, 
he had better be educated ; if he has to sweep 
the streets, he had better be educated. It makes 
no difference what you do, you will do it better 
if you are educated. An intelligent man knows 
how to bring knowledge to bear upon whatever 
he has to do. It is a mistake to suppose that a 
stupid man makes a better laborer than one who is 
intelligent. If I wanted a man to drain my farm, or 
merely to throw the dirt out from a ditch, I would 
not get a stupid drudge if I could help it. In times 
when armies have to pass through great hardships, 
it is the stupid soldiers that break down quickest; 
while the men of intelligence, who have mental 



CULTURE. 157 

resources, hold out longest. It is a common saying 
that blood will always tell in horses : I know that 
intelligence will tell in men." 

The "Captains of Industry," in every mine and 
factory are the intelligent workmen. Intelligence 
makes their touch more sensitive, and gives greater 
mobility to their hands. There is a weaving-room 
in Massachusetts filled with girls above the average 
in character and intelligence, and there is one girl 
among them who has been highly educated. Though 
length of arm and strength of muscle are advan- 
tages in weaving, and though this girl is short and 
small, she always weaves the greatest number of 
pieces in the room, and consequently draws the 
largest pay at the end of each month. 

The intelligent English travelers find nothing in 
the United States that excites their wonder and 
admiration so much as the manufacturing - towns of 
New England. That factory girls should play on 
the piano and sustain a creditable magazine by 
their own contributions; that their residences should 
be clean, commodious, and elegant ; that factory-men 
should be intelligent gentlemen, well-read in litera- 
ture, and totally unacquainted with beer and its 
inspirations, have been for many years the crowning 
marvels of America to all travelers of culture and 
observation. Franklin, Sherman, and many of our 
brightest lights, emerged from the workshops, and 
have enriched the world through the genius of 
their learning as fully as the profoundest collegian 
of any age. An obscure life is sometimes unavoid- 



158 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

able, but ignorance is a voluntary misfortune, if not 
a crime. "A wise man," says Seneca, " is provided 
for occurrences of any kind: the good he manages, 
the bad he vanquishes; in prosperity he betrays 
no presumption, and in adversity he feels no 
despondency." 

A scientific man can dig a better post-hole than 
a dunce, and an intelligent man will make a better 
gardener than one who never read a book. It is 
said that in the early days of San Francisco the 
most popular waiter at one of the hotels was an 
ex-congressman ; not because he had been a congress- 
man, for it was not then known, but because he 
knew men, could detect wants, and possessed 
discretion. The country over, the hired hand that 
is kept the whole year round, at good wages, is 
the one that reads the newspapers, dresses up, 
and goes to church. Knowledge is not the 
monopoly of the professions nor the privilege of 
wealth ; it is the prerogative of the day-laborer and 
the mechanic ; it is the inheritance of every man if 
he will go up and possess the land. The most 
exacting trade furnishes enough leisure five minutes 
in a year to permit you to become conversant with 
the history of the United States. Put in the parings 
of each day, the mere rinds of it, for ten years, and 
you will have become a scholar. 

These crevices of time, filled with rapid reading, 
to be meditated on while at work, will make one 
proficient in literature, and afford ample time for the 
current news. After a few years you will concede 



CULTURE. 159 

that brain pays a journeyman as well as a professor. 
Beside the increased ability to dispatch work and 
the additional demand it creates for your services, 
it affords dignity of character, and a happiness that 
is superior to every misfortune. Dr. Mason Good 
translated Lucretius while riding in his carriage in 
the streets of London, going his rounds among his 
patients. Dr. Darwin composed nearly all his works 
in the same way, writing down his thoughts on little 
scraps of paper which he carried about with him for 
the purpose. Hale wrote his "Contemplations" 
while traveling on a circuit. Dr. Burney learned 
French and Italian while traveling on horseback from 
one music pupil to another. Kirke White learned 
Greek while walking to and from a lawyers office. 
Daguesseau, one of the great Chancellors of France, 
wrote a bulky volume during the moments he waited 
for dinner. Madame de Genlis composed several 
of her charming volumes while waiting for the 
Princess to whom she gave her daily lessons, and 
Jeremy Bentham considered it a calamity to lose 
one moment of time. 

That is a solemn admonition on the dial at All 
Souls, Oxford, England: " Periunt et imputantur' 1 — 
the hours perish and are laid to our charge. 
Melancthon noted down the time lost by him, that 
it might reanimate his energies. An Italian scholar 
put over his door an inscription intimating that 
whoever remained there should join in his labors. 
"We are afraid," said some visitors to Baxter, "that 
we break in upon your time." "To be sure you do," 



160 8UCGESS IN LIFE. 

replied the sturdy divine. Elihu Burritt attributed 
his first success in self-improvement, not to genius, 
which he disclaimed, but to the employment of his 
odd moments. While working and earning his 
living as a blacksmith, he mastered some eighteen 
ancient and modern languages, and twenty-two Euro- 
pean dialects. " Those who have been acquainted 
with my character from my youth up," said a self- 
made man, "will give me credit for sincerity when 
I say, that it never entered into my head to blazon 
forth any acquisition of my own. . . . All that I 
have accomplished, or expect or hope to accomplish, 
has been or will be by that plodding, patient, perse- 
vering process of accretion which builds the ant-heap 
— particle by particle, thought by thought, fact by 
fact. And if ever I was actuated by ambition, its 
highest and warmest aspiration reached no further 
than the hope to set before the young men of my 
country an example in employing those invaluable 
fragments of time called ' odd moments; " 

Do you say you are not able to work this thing 
out by yourself? — that you must attend lectures and 
enter classes ? This is all very nice if it can be done, 
but if not, what then ? Shall you shrivel up and 
blow away because there is no university in your 
community! What are books, and men, and nature 
for, if not to aid you ? Can you go a mile into the 
world without running across a legion of instructors? 

" Think you, 'mid all this mighty sum 
Of things for ever speaking, 
That nothing of itself will come, 
But we must still be seeking?" 



CULTURE. 161 

If you should sit, to-day, before a professor, could 
he teach you more valuable things than you can 
learn, with open eyes and ears, before business or in 
the midst of society and the churches ? 

Rittenhouse,the astronomer, first calculated eclipses 
on his plow-handle. Wilkie, the artist, used a burned 
stick and the barn door in lieu of pencil and 
canvas. Watt made his first model of a condensing 
steam engine out of an old syringe. A bit of paste- 
board enabled Newton to unfold the composition of 
light and the origin of colors. Gifford worked his 
first problem in mathematics, when a cobbler's 
apprentice, on scraps of leather which he beat 
smooth for the purpose. Franklin drew the light- 
ning from the clouds with a key fastened on to a 
kite-string. And a distinguished English scholar, 
while yet a gardener's boy, being asked how he had 
contrived to read " Newton's Principia," in Latin, 
replied : " One needs only to know the letters of the 
alphabet, in order to learn every thing else he 
wishes." 

If the broad halls of opportunity are closed to you, 
they may not be closed for ever. If you would work 
your way into the society of the learned, " after the 
shop is closed, climb a lamp-post, holding on with 
one hand and reading with the other." If you can 
not stand side by side with Governor Bishop and 
Secretary Schurz, like them you can at any rate take 
the strokes of the world courageously in the days of 
your humiliation. Many a slave, before the war, 
learned his letters, and put them together into 



162 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

syllables and words, simply from overhearing the 
recitations of his masters children. And many an 
American has learned to read by studying the signs 
that were painted on the fences he was passing on 
his way to town. Indeed, the men who formed and 
fashioned our Western civilization were neither 
blessed with skillful guides nor cursed with worn-out 
routes. It has been theirs to blaze the forest as 
they went. 

A thorough knowledge of your business, and a 
general knowledge of the world, will oftener bring 
success than an inheritance. Chesterfield was not a 
man of astounding parts, yet his magnificent culture 
made him one of the greatest men of his day. He 
said of one of his speeches, delivered before the 
Lords, and with which they were highly pleased, that 
he knew nothing of the matter, for it was scientific. 
It turned out that the Lords did not understand 
it either, but he assumed to know so much, and 
addressed them as if they knew all about it, that 
they declared they thoroughly understood the case 
from his statement. His knowledge of men, and of 
their prevailing shallowness, together with his own 
smattering of science, enabled him to form sentences 
that sounded as though they came from a master of 
the subject. That salesman at Claflin's who tells cus- 
tomers all about how the stripes are put into silks, and 
describes the silkworms' and cocoons, sells more silk 
than any other clerk in America. 

To possess knowledge is a general ambition with 



CULTURE. 163 

men. But by the time one reaches forty his resolu- 
tion is all scattered to the winds, 

" And, like an insubstantial pageant, faded, 
Leaves not a wrack behind." 

4i Time! time!" it is cried; "we have not time." It is 
not time that is needed. Every man has time 
enough, no matter how great a toiler he may be. It 
is a right royal determination that is wanting — a 
spirit like Elihu Burritt's, that prompts him to work 
like a horse at his trade, and like Demosthenes at 
his studies. There are many men who would per- 
form vast works " if" there were no obstacles in the 
way. Almost every man tells his friends what he 
could have attained to "if" the occasion had been 
granted him. Every boy can see the dazzling 
pinnacle, and could reach it "if" he only had a 
chance. Chances are not equal to all, it is true, but 
he who stumbles over an "if" will never find a 
chance. 

You must cover the, distance between you and 
your more fortunate rival by such heroic effort as 
he is not likely to put forth, so as never to let him 
know there was ever an "if" in the way. So rapid 
are the revolutions of fortune's wheel, that circum- 
stances are of no abiding value. The most favorable 
surroundings of to-day may be utterly changed 
to-morrow, leaving their victim stripped. Ralston 
revels in millions this morning, his children the envy 
of San Francisco : this evening, a suicide, he floats 



164 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

on the water, and they are without support. Byron, 
born of a defaulting, drunken father and vicious 
mother, for a brief period is the heir of poverty ; but 
the index turns, and he inherits his uncle's title and 
vast estates. Tenterden is forced to leave his place 
in the cathedral choir for lack of ability, after many 
other failures ; however, he puts his shoulder to the 
wheel, pushes out, and dies a Lord Chancellor. 

There is no permanent hope for a man except as it 
starts from within. The scale of circumstance may 
go up or down, to elevate or to sink, but that which 
takes root and rise within the soil of one's own 
nature may be reckoned upon as measurably secure. 
Archimedes said if he could find a place for his 
fulcrum he could upset the world. Within the sphere 
of morals such a leverage can be found. It is in the 
consciousness of increasing capacities, which we hold 
as the gift of God. Whether one will proceed, then, 
with the Archimedean problem, on its moral 
merits, is left to his own volition. For, in no thing 
is he so much the arbiter t of his fortune as in 
attaining unto the measure of perfect manhood. 

If you have a preference for literature, as a means 
of getting on, you do not need many books. Some 
men gorge upon Rollin and Gibbon, Lingard and 
Froude, Mosheim, Mommsen, Macaulay and Motley, 
until their minds become more voluminous in their 
contents than luminous in exercise. They suppose 
if they can stow away a cart-load of chapters and 
paragraphs they will become wise. This may do for 
a man of the stature of Carlyle or Hamilton. 



CULTURE. 165 

They could walk erect, and turn a hand-spring 
under the pressure of forty thousand volumes, but 
on a common brain it is easy to heap a burden 
that will make one stagger worse than a ten-year- 
old boy beneath the pack of a Hungarian peddler. 
It is not the quantity of books one reads, nor the 
large amount of information drawn from every source, 
that helps; it is first the quality, and next the ability 
to apply to practical use. Some men are more learned 
from reading one book than others are after reading 
a hundred. Indeed, as Disraeli says, " the man of one 
book is dangerous." One need have great book- 
capacity to compete with some. Napoleon read 
books as he conquered foes, before breakfast. 
Charles James Fox read with lightning-like rapidity, 
remembering every good sentence in an entire 
volume. All that Sir William Hamilton pretended 
to do was "to rip the bowels out of a book." Carlyle 
sucked the marrow from an encyclopedia in two hours. 
Of all the impotencies, the impotency of reading 
is the most worthless and despicable. One we know 
wades through the pages like a mad bull in a stream, 
closes the book with a pompous dash, and turns 
to you with an air of triumph as though he had 
conquered the Bodleian Library. "Another volume 
swallowed," cries he ; and so it is, only it lies on the 
brain as undigested as would a grindstone if intro- 
duced into the stomach. He is as full as a boa 
after gorging an ox, and as comatose; George III 
after the disposal of a dozen dumplings could not 
be more leaden than he. 



166 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Libraries are magnetic. Like the fabulous lode- 
stone rock, which, with the wind's speed, drew the 
fated ship to itself, only to dash it to pieces in 
the contact, so do vast shelves of books draw men 
in. You can not read all the books published. Don't 
try it. Culture does not consist in such omnivorous 
folly. Take up standard authors, leaving new ones 
to those who have time to read and experience to 
test them. You will find that even the authorities 
are not equal to themselves, page by page. It seems 
to be a necessity that they should not be. Too 
much sweet surfeits. Select from them what you 
need and is good, file it away, and work it over into 
rib-bones for your own structure, or sink it into the 
blood as you do iron. Read books like Robertson,, 
who waded into a library for the same purpose 
one takes a bath, that he might be purified and 
invigorated. 

Bacon said, "Some books are to be tasted, others 
swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested." 
Seeing that if the printed pages in our libraries, and 
the newspaper and magazine editions for one year 
were stretched out, they would "paper" the globe 
itself, how careful ought we to be in selecting, so that 
we can utilize every thing in our calling. When you 
find a really valuable book, then, such as Shakspeare, 
Macaulay s Essays, Gibbon, or The Iliad, be like 
Hackett, "who fastened his eyes on a book as if it 
were a will making him heir to a million." 

What share have the philosophers and sentimen- 
talists with the apostles? One hardly dare shake 



CULTURE. 167 

hands with Emerson and say, " Prophet ! " especially 
while he is under the raking fire of Joseph Cook. 
And yet we all feel that there is a class of writers 
from whom we are making up a life we shall some 
day hate to lose. We can find no sensible man who 
does not recommend them. One time when I thought 
of studying theology I picked up " Shedd's Homi- 
letics" and read a chapter on intellectual culture. He 
tells ministers to lay a basis for eternity by constantly 
studying Homer, Shakspeare, and Plato. It does not 
appear that we go to these for absolute revelations. 
Width of thought, warmth of heart, and unbounded 
humanity are the properties we carry away. All their 
peccadilloes seem to sieve out. Or does the good 
blood in one take up nothing but the necessary ele- 
ments? We are afraid of the analogy, and remark 
that it is not in the filth of a word so much as in the 
passion of a sentiment that we may look for breakers. 
One can pick words enough out of Shakspeare to 
make a pocket dictionary, any one of which we should 
blush to put on these pages. And yet we all read 
over them without any other feeling than that of 
repulsion; while Byron and Rousseau, whose inde- 
cent words are very rare indeed, wile you on with 
their hot sentiment to a point that disgraces, and 
down goes the book in alarm. 

Don't cast a book aside simply because some one 
sees a bugbear in the term " Fiction." What is there 
that is not in some sense fictitious ? Would you 
discard Dickens, Scott, Holmes, Holland, Eggleston, 
McDonald, Eliot, Stowe, and " Schcenberg-Cotta," 



168 SUCCESS IW LIFE. 

to say nothing of our Lord's parables ? There is 
but one moral rule for reading - . Read every thing 
that makes you better and nothing that makes you 
worse, or leaves you where you were. Don't cast a 
book aside because it opposes your views. Be a man. 
Face it. Interrogate it Let it interrogate you. 
Perchance it is you who are wrong. Perhaps it. 
Antagonize. Let it provoke you to thought. Often 
this is the best and quickest way to start the torpid 
brain and to arrive at a well-defined angle of truth. 
And in the name of literature and common sense, 
have nothing to do with expurgated editions. If 
your modesty is such that you can not read a book as 
originally written, leave it alone. What are books 
for unless to teach us of men and their histories — of 
the world and its contents just as it is ? Don't be 
prudish on this point, allowing some wiseacre to go 
in your advance, culling and scraping. Take counsel 
of good friends as to the propriety of choosing such 
and such authors, and so protect yourself. 

Chatterton used to say, that " men had arms long 
enough to reach anything if they chose to be at the 
trouble." When Sir Francis Horner was giving his 
rules for the cultivation of the mind, he placed great 
stress upon the habit of continuous application to 
one subject, for the sake of mastering it thoroughly. 
He confined himself to a few books, and resisted with 
great firmness the habit of " desultory reading." We 
are all the time seeking short cuts to knowledge. 
We have French in twelve lessons ; a sophomore 
expects to harangue a Greek mob in his second term; 



CULTURE, 169 

and after nine months at astronomy we have forgot- 
ten more than Ferguson knew after he had slept on 
the high-lands in his sheep-skin for ten years. As 
soon as we have heard a few lectures on chemistry, 
taken laughing gas, witnessed the dissection of a 
human body, walked up and down through a library, 
stammered through a dozen Greek and Latin works, 
fingered a few specimen " rocks," botanized a dozen 
plants, and taught a class or two in mathematics 
during the professor's absence, we stretch out, and 
swell, and pass out into the world, having traversed, 
as we suppose, the whole curriculum of knowledge. 
In this way we get a smattering of every thing, estab- 
lishing the paradox that what is better than nothing 
is good for nothing. 

The general who divides a thousand men into ten 
different advancing columns only scatters them on 
the field to find defeat ; whereas, if he concentrates 
them into one solid wedge and drives them into the 
enemy's center, he bursts it open and wins the day. 
Ignatius Loyola said: " He who does well one work 
at a time does more than all. " " I resolved," said 
Lord St. Leonards, " when beginning to read law, to 
make every thing I acquired perfectly my own, and 
never to go to a second thing until I had entirely 
accomplished the first. Many of my competitors read 
more in a day than I read in a week ; but at the end 
of twelve months my knowledge was as fresh as on 
the day it was acquired, while theirs had glided away 
from recollection." There is a point at which the 
mind's saturating power reaches a maximum, and to 



170 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

attempt to go beyond this is useless. Abernethy used 
to compare the mind to a bucket that would hold 
just so much, and if you put anything more in, it had 
the effect of pushing something else out. 

The facility with which one accomplishes a work 
is not always an index to his ultimate success. In 
many cases, unusual facility becomes a most detri- 
mental element. John Randolph was one of the 
most brilliant speakers in all the galaxy of orators, 
but, being an extreme partisan, his speeches were 
surfeited with sarcasm and personal denunciation, 
which dazzled at the time, and gained a wonderful 
passing fame, but there were no "constitutional" 
efforts, and another generation is almost forgetting 
his splendid powers. 

Benjamin Constant was one of the most gifted of 
intellectual Frenchmen, but blase at twenty. His life 
was a prolonged wail, instead of a harvest of results. 
He had the fluency of Chief Justice Marshall in 
conversation, and his facile pen discussed religion, 
history, politics and science, without effort, and with 
inconceivable rapidity. He cherished the ambition 
of writing books " which the world would not willingly 
let die." But he accomplished his transcendental 
themes with such ease that he came to despise all 
labor, and eventually mocked all virtue. He fre- 
quented the gaming-tables while preparing his work 
on religion, and carried on a disreputable intrigue 
while writing his " Adolphe." He effected much, but 
early victory without struggle dissipated a genius as 
great as Voltaire's, and sent him to his grave over 



CULTURE. 171 

an airy pathway of brilliant emptiness, his last years 
being useless and miserable. Coleridge greatly 
resembled the Inconstant Frenchman in that he was 
unusually gifted, but barren of results. From the 
buddings of his early genius his friends expected a 
generous career, but after having projected some 
forty thousand treatises, he died, leaving the world 
heir to a mass of fragments. 

Charles James Fox used to say he had more hope 
for the man who failed and then went on in spite of 
his failure, than from the buoyant career of the suc- 
cessful. "It is all very well," said he, "to tell me that 
a young man has distinguished himself by a brilliant 
first speech. He may go on, or he may be satisfied 
with his first triumph ; but show me a young man 
who has not succeeded at first, and nevertheless has 
gone on, and I will back that young man to do better 
than the most of those who have succeeded at the 
first trial." One talented and promising member of 
the English Parliament, whose maiden speech was 
an astonishingly brilliant effort, never made a 
second ; and he is known to history as " Single- 
speech Hamilton." 

A man of true metal, like John Philpot Curran, is 
energized by failure, and it often happens to such a 
man that he discovers what will do by finding out 
what will not do. Torricelli, like the man who 
"bucks" against the "tiger" successfully, redoubled 
his energies after each failure, and in the end was 
always conqueror. Insurance companies get new busi- 
ness by announcing their losses ; and medical science 



172 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

will never advance rapidly until her professional men 
have the courage to publish their failures. Watt, the 
engineer, said the thing most wanted in mechanics 
was a history of failures. Sir Humphry Davy, on 
examining a dexterously manipulated experiment, 
thanked God that he was not a dexterous manipu- 
lator ; " for the most important of my discoveries," 
said he, "have been suggested to me by failures." 
" Rossini," said Beethoven, " had in him the stuff to 
have made a good musician if he had only, when a 
boy, been flogged. But he was spoiled by the facility 
with which he produced." Burns truthfully said, 

" Though losses and crosses 
Be lessons right severe, 
There's wit there, you'll get there, 
You'll find no other where." 

Youth sometimes wail over the adversity that 
drives them to a trade before they have acquired 
even a common-school education. While the fate is 
a hard one, and is to be deplored, yet, if this lashing 
does not arouse all their dormant powers, it is ques- 
tionable if the smoother path would be of any real 
advantage. " It is only a weak man whom the wind 
deprives of his cloak; a man of average strength is 
more in danger of losing it when assailed by the too 
genial sun." William Cobbett's account of how he 
learned grammar serves to show the power of 
adversity to deepen the determination to accomplish 
a loved work. " I learned grammar," said he, " when 
I was a private soldier on the pay of sixpence a day. 



CULTURE. 173 

The edge of my berth, or that of my guard-bed, was 
my seat to study in ; my knapsack was my book- 
case; a bit of board lying on my lap was my writing- 
table; and the task did not demand any thing like a 
year of my life. I had no money to purchase candle 
or oil ; in winter-time it was rarely that I could get 
any evening light but that of the fire, and only my 
turn even of that. And if I, under such circum- 
stances, and without parent or friend to advise or 
encourage me, accomplished this undertaking, what 
excuse can there be for any youth, however poor, 
however pressed with business, or however circum- 
stanced as to room or other conveniences ? To buy 
a pen or a sheet of paper I was compelled to forego 
some portion of food, though in a state of half- 
starvation : I had no moment of time that I could 
call my own ; and I had to read and write amidst the 
talking, laughing, singing, whistling and brawling of 
at least half a score of the most thoughtless of men, 
and that, too, in the hours of their freedom from all 
control. Think not lightly of the farthing that I 
had to give, now and then, for ink, pen or paper! 
That farthing was, alas ! a great sum to me ! I was 
as tall as I am now ; I had great health and great 
exercise. The whole of the money, not expended 
for us at market, was two-pence a week for each man. 
I remember, and well I may ! that on one occasion I, 
after all necessary expenses, had, on a Friday, made 
shifts to have a halfpenny in reserve, which I had 
destined for the purchase of a red herring in the 
morning ; but, when I pulled off my clothes at night, 



174 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

so hungry then as to be hardly able to endure life, I 
found that I had lost my halfpenny ! I buried my 
head under the miserable sheet and rug, and cried 
like a child! And again I say, if I, under circum- 
stances like these, could encounter and overcome this 
task, is there, can there be, in the whole world, a 
youth to find an excuse for the non-performance?" 

The school of difficulty makes more men than 
titled professors. Its history would be but a record 
of all the great and good things that have been 
accomplished by men. It is probable the world would 
never have heard of Franklin, Stephenson and 
Newton if they had not been stung along their road 
by adversity. Difficulties voluntarily imposed fail to 
have the quickening power of natural or uncontrol- 
able circumstances. Don't plunge yourself into diffi- 
culty that you may catch inspiration in getting out, 
else you may be like the young writer who longed 
to paint DeQuincey's pandemonium of the opium 
damned, and, taking one of the weird man's doses to 
give him imagination, he never caught the inspiration, 
for he never recovered from the dose. 

The highway of success, where all the labor of 
culture rests on self, is steep to climb, and puts to the 
proof the energies of the man who would reach the 
summit. But you will soon learn that obstacles are 
to be overcome by grappling with them : that " the 
nettle feels soft as silk when it is boldly grasped;" 
and the most effective help toward realizing your 
object is the lofty conviction that you will succeed. 
Edmund Burke has happily said, "Difficulty is a 



CULTURE. 175 

severe instructor, set over us by the supreme ordi- 
nance of a Parent who knows us better than we 
know ourselves, as He loves us better too. He that 
wrestles with us strengthens our nerves, and sharpens 
our skill: our antagonist is thus our helper." 

A cultured man is always ready with his point, and 
makes it. He always knows what to say, when to 
say it, and when to stop. He never travels in a 
roundabout course. He has a more practical aim 
before him than simply to fill up the time. He does 
not deal in fringe-work, flowers or persiflage, but 
leaves these to be dealt out by the effeminate fools 
who deck themselves merely to strut. Culture is not 
constantly shelving off on to the stars of hyperbole. 
It does not catch up the nomenclature and mythology 
of Greece and pour them in incessant showers over 
the heads of a palled audience, but it catches the 
Homeric fire, and, burning it over in the crucible of a 
painstaking brain, it enkindles those about it. 

Culture prunes away all excesses, and thus throws 
vitality into the stem of action. It puts one in 
possession of pure power. It sees a barricade 
looming up, and strikes it down on the spot. It 
seizes the gates of Gaza, bears them out of reach, 
and at the same time boldly traverses the citadel. 
It makes minute-men : it enriches one with all the 
resources of art and invention. It shapes and 
strengthens the life of its owner, so that, let him be 
situated as he may, the serenity that he displays 
indicates the power, in repose, he possesses. 

Guard well your hours, and guard your character. 



176 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Seek the society of your superiors ; drink deep at 
the fountains of knowledge ; direct the wisdom you 
acquire to worthy ends; center all your powers upon 
the problem of your destiny ; bring yourself up to 
the loftiest point of excellence accessible to you ; 
so that, at the close of life's travail, if compelled, 
with Morton, to exclaim, " I am dying! I am worn 
out!" you may at least be able to say, with the 
eccentric Richter, " I have made as much out of 
myself as could be made out of the stuff." 





enrg ©lag. 



He was a man, take him for all in all, 
We shall not look upon his like again." 





CHAPTER VIII. 



HENRY CLAY. 




ENRY CLAY had a mother. A mother is 
every thing to a child, either for good or for 
evil. His mother was every thing to him for good — 
teacher, stimulator, friend. Childhood, in statuary, 
may charm the eye, by reason of its grace and per- 
fection, and may be purchased by money ; but when 
you possess it, it has neither thought nor heart, and 
is impassive. Mothers are the sculptors of human 
life, making luminous the lineaments of the face with 
the light of cultivated intellect and the instinct of 
purity; informing the plastic soul with great hopes 
and inspirations, conscious of having received it from 
the womb of destiny; or, by their negligence and 
their criminality, so warping and defacing, in the 
infant, the Divine image, that when they start their 
offspring out on to the highway of life, it is at once 
seized upon and occupied by a legion of unclean 
spirits. It is said that a house in one of the Northern 
states is so situated that as a rain-drop falls on one 
side of the roof, or the other, its mission is blessed 



179 



180 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

with fruitfulness or blighted in the waste of seas. If 
it fall upon one side, it rushes down a declivity, 
empties into Lake Superior, plunges on over 
jagged rocks, leaps the ramparts of Niagara, and 
loses itself in the broad Atlantic ; if it chance to fall 
upon the other side of the roof, it flows by rill, rivulet 
and river to the Father of Waters, and empties not 
into the gulf until it has made fruitful the fields of 
three thousand miles, and gladdened the homes of 
millions. So, when the frail infant is cast upon our 
shores, a mothers influence may turn it hither or 
thither, either to bless or to ban. 

Henry Clay was blessed with a mother whose love 
for her sickly boy, and sympathy for his hopeless 
poverty, caused her to speak encouraging words in 
his ear, smooth with her own hands the rough way 
for his tender feet, and kindle a beacon for him, 
whose guidance he never lost sight of in all his long 
life. This man had no illustrious pedigree like 
Demosthenes, Cicero, Chatham and Henry. He 
forged the lightnings of greatness with his own 
hands. Like Cuvier, having dissected the skeletons 
of the living and the dead, he was his own anatom- 
izer. He held that he who was familiar with analysis 
would comprehend synthesis — that to be construc- 
tive one must be destructive. Hence it was the 
pleasure of his youth to examine into the elements 
of an oration, as it was the business of his manhood 
to become one of the authors of politics. 

If Bonaparte had a lordly lineage he forbade its 
mention, for he despised borrowed greatness. When 



HENRY CLAY. 181 

the Austrian monarch was preparing to make him 
his son-in-law he busied himself in searching for 
his royal descent, and was determined to make it 
out, even as they put great speeches into the mouths 
of kings. Bonaparte visited him at once, and 
exclaimed, " Stop, stop, sire ! I alone am the author 
of my fortune, and desire it- to be so understood: 
neither royalty nor royal descent has contributed 
any thing to its achievement, and though I might 
legitimately claim both, I would not mention either." 

We do not know that a similar indifference was 
felt by Mr. Clay, relative to his lineage, but his plain, 
unostentatious habits and firm adherence to repub- 
lican principles warrant us in presuming that such 
was the case. Certain it is, however, that for the 
elevated position he occupied he was as little 
indebted to any adventitious advantages of birth 
or fortune as was the mighty conqueror; and with 
equal propriety might he have said, in view of the 
means by which he had attained that position, I alone 
am the architect of my fortune. Having no titled 
ancestry, he was not compelled, like Erskine, to rise in 
spite of them. This son of a Baptist clergyman first 
breathed the air of the Old Dominion in less than 
a year after the Declaration of Independence, on the 
1 2th of April, 1777. The father died in a few years, 
leaving the clergyman's usual legacy, a large, poverty- 
stricken family. 

It is a well-known truth, that those who are 
familiar with the beauties and sublimities of the 
natural world, are distinguished for expansive and 



182 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

noble views. The coal-miner, born and reared in the 
shaft, can not appreciate the high admiration of 
nature possessed by the Scot, whose home is upheld 
by some lofty crag, overlooking mountain and sea. 
And parallel to this effect is that where one is 
surrounded by the magnificent scenery of the mental 
and moral world, where Shakspeare and Milton, 
Talleyrand and DeQuincey, Addison and Goldsmith, 
are arrayed in their glories before him ; or is con- 
fined to the smutty cells of a Woodhull or a Sterne,, 
a Don Juan or a Boccacio. Hence the sage custom 
of the ancient Greeks, of grouping around the young 
men who were to assume the responsibilities of 
public life every appropriate and imposing circum- 
stance. In close connection with the precept, " know 
thy self! 1 they placed that of " know the good and the 
great of others? They held that the contemplation 
of deeds of mental and moral grandeur induced and 
nurtured patriotic ardor. It is said that the dying 
Napoleon II would read the story of his father's 
might and then totter from his couch to swing his 
fathers saber ; and that when Hamilcar painted for 
his boy the dashing horsemanship and valorous deeds 
of the fathers, Hannibal practiced his pony over the 
logs of the forest and drove his lance into the trees, 
till with such spirited training, assuming command, 
he became at once the terror of Rome and the glory 
of Carthage. 

Henry Clay's mother told her son of the tyranny 
of King George, of taxation without representation, 
of Bunker Hill and Warren, of Valley Forge and 



HENRY CLAY. 183 

Washington, of universal philanthropy and La 
Fayette. She bade him listen to the lofty pleadings 
of Jefferson, Hamilton and Adams, and the electric 
alarums of Henry. She told him that shot and shell, 
desolation and carnage, limbless bodies and new- 
made graves, weeping children and heart-stricken 
mothers, sacrifices of wealth and homes and life, 
were all to make true God's promise of inalienable 
human rights, and to build on this side the waters 
a nation of freemen. At this mother-fountain, deeply 
did he drink of the impulses of heroic action, filling 
his soul with hatred of oppression, burning and 
insatiate as that of Cromwell or Milton. The heights 
of his eloquence and moral achievement, upheaved 
by the hand of his power, along the pathway of his 
life, until the last act, stand like mountain peaks 
piled to a climax. He grew up controlled by no 
sectional feeling. His patriotism was larger than 
his state, and his philanthropy broader than his 
country. The benevolence on which he planted 
himself was so lofty that it enabled him while legis- 
lating for his own country in particular, to see and 
care for the interests of all countries. 

His great character, his matchless will-power, the 
thoughts which he entertained, the words which he 
spoke, his large sagacity, his marked individuality, 
his conscientious perseverance, his self-wrought man- 
hood, and his magnificent patriotism, which achieved 
for his country continued peace and prosperity — for 
himself, a place like that of a household god in every 
American heart : we wish succinctly to speak of 



184 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

these, for in the orator we want to find a model for 
the man. 

Men often bear what seem to be two distinct 
characters — so distinct as to amount to apparent 
contradiction. The question with the biographer, in 
such a case, must be, Which will give the most correct 
impression ? which represents most truly the effective 
character? Charles II sought, in disguise, the 
acquaintance of the author of " Hudibras," thinking 
that he should find him a most facetious fellow ; but 
so great was the king's disappointment that he was 
led to pronounce Butler a stupid blockhead, and to 
declare it to be impossible that he could ever have 
written so witty a book, Tradition affirms of Shak- 
speare that, after obtaining a competency from his 
dramatic works, he settled down quietly upon a farm, 
varying the monotony of his life by an occasional 
visit to the nearest market town, to execute small 
commissions for himself and his neighbors. What 
idea of the immortal dramatist should we now 
possess, had it been left to one of those neighbors 
to transmit his personal impressions of the "chiel 
amang" them !" 

The elegant Addison and the genial Lamb are 
said to have been very reserved in society. They 
had two sides — one holding a pen flowing with 
mellifluous strains; the other, paralyzed by contact. 
Carlyle, like Dr. Johnson, rasps like a Sheffield file, 
unless you consent to be borne on the current of his 
opinion. They both look on men who disagree with 
them as liars and idiots. These men, whose shafts 




HENRY CLAY. 



HENRY CLAY. 185 

of satire flew fierce and swift at friend and foe, are 
unfortunate in having biographers of their social life. 
But we have to deal with one who loved his friends, 
hurled his thunders only against an enemy and 
through it all vindicated his manhood. Many foes 
had he in the political arena, but in the social circle 
none, and even his enemies were his admirers. Take 
one instance : Randolph and Clay were old enemies. 
The Senate -chamber trembled, as Olympus under 
the tread of the gods, when these giants crossed 
swords. Feeble, and knowing he soon must die, 
Randolph was conveyed to the Chamber. When 
Clay rose to speak, he said ; " Lift me up ! lift me up ! 
I want to hear that voice, and see the man once 
more." Clay, overcome, stepped forward, clasped his 
hand, and the two statesmen were in tears. 

It is customary for biographers to write their hero 
an unusually precocious child or a lamentable idiot. 
Fortunately, we are not compelled to put young Clay 
in either category. He did not exhibit the youthful 
profundity of Burke, nor develop the geometrical 
precision of Blaise Pascal, nor overwhelm people by 
the ten-year-old oratory of a Pitt ; neither, on the 
contrary, was he an incorrigible dunce, like Sheridan, 
nor a booby, like Swift, nor an eye-blacker, like the 
" saintly Barrow." As the Duchess d'Abrantes said 
of Bonaparte, " He was in all respects like other 
boys." Only, he was not strong enough to roll large 
stones about, like Adam Clarke. He was a jangle - 
legged, tow-headed, moon-eyed young granger — as 
common a specimen of the overplowed boy as could 



186 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

be found in Virginia. Had you seen him astride the 
blind mare, gee-hawing her with a rope halter, 
"a-totin"' the grist to old Mrs. Darricott's mill, you 
would have seen no prophecy of the diplomat who 
manipulated the treaty of Ghent. He was as silent 
as the Sphinx, on his destiny, in all probability not 
knowing the meaning of the word. He gave no pre- 
monitions of the coming man ; he was merely a 
green, country boy. 

Robert Peel and Gladstone were born to the 
privileges of glorious old Oxford; but to such edu- 
cational facilities Clay was a stranger. His classic 
hall was a log school-house on the Pamunky River; 
his Professor Jowett was Peter Deacon; his curricu- 
lum was reading, writing and ciphering " to the 
double rule of three;" and his course was three 
short winters. No wonder, then, he felt keenly the 
thrust of Randolph's poisoned lance, hurled at his 
poverty and lack of education, and feelingly replied : 
" My only heritage has been infancy, indigence and 
ignorance; but these were my misfortune, not my 
crime." 

At the age of fourteen he went to Richmond, as 
clerk in the store of Peter Denney. Up to this time 
he had read but little. A limited number of the few 
books in his father's library had received a rapid 
reading at his hands, and that only to gratify his 
mother's earnest wishes. His years so far had been 
spent in a boy's characteristic dilatoriness. The 
advent in the Richmond store marked a new era for 
him ; it opened his rustic eyes on another world than 



HENRY CLAY. 18T 

the " slashes." He had no predilection for merchan- 
dising, and its uncongenial duties bore heavily on 
his mind. In less than a year, his step-father, Captain 
Watkins, secured him a clerkship in the office of 
Peter Tinsley, Clerk of the Court of Chancery, in 
Richmond. 

Here the awkward boy met his first trial. He 
could fish and hunt, and go to mill in his native 
Hanover, and be contented, for he was the equal of 
other boys; but when his home-made coat and 
trousers came into contact with a "city cut," his 
uncouth manners seemed aggravated, and his sensi- 
tive nature shrank in mortification from his new 
companions. Of course, the office-boys were not 
long in discovering this fresh victim for their jokes, 
and unsparingly made him the butt of all their fun. 
To Clay, this was torture. He wended his way to 
his lodgings, evening after evening, flinging himself 
on his bed in tears. He felt that he was a " country 
boy," and that every one knew it ; that he was in no 
sense a match for those city boys, for he could not 
dress as they did, nor act and talk in their " citified" 
way. But to feel that he was the target for every 
witticism was unbearable above all else. 

To cross swords with Webster or feel Randolph's 
dueling pistol leveled at his breast, in after years, 
did not disturb his soul as did his daily encounters 
with these shrewd young dandies of the office. 
Between the wit of the boys and the persecution 
of his own feelings, he perspired like the statue of 
Orpheus when Alexander hesitated to start on his 



188 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

world-conquering mission. Six months of mortal 
agony were thus put through, when it came to such a 
pass that he realized he must either leave the office 
or defend himself. One salient stroke of repartee, 
the next day, silenced his astonished foes. Another 
one, that afternoon, brought a cheer from the whole 
house, save the one at whom it was directed. For 
him it was a scorpion's sting. That night he slept 
better than he had for weeks, and from that day 
forward he carried his sword unsheathed. He soon 
came to be recognized as the leader of the company. 

While he was too generous to make war upon 
those who persecuted him in the day of his weakness, 
he was too much of a general to pause at the 
parrying of a thrust He never stopped until he 
had disarmed his enemy. It was understood that he 
never provoked a quarrel, but whoever attacked him 
would have the starch knocked out of his presump- 
tion, and be laughed to the rear in an ambulance of 
wit. His slashing retorts soon made him admirers 
every where, but down to his last days he used 
them in maintaining merely a defensive attitude. 
It was not in the statesman of "Compromises" to 
be an assailant. 

The idea of doing something for himself in life 
now began gradually to dawn upon his mind. Like 
Sir Walter Scott, at that same age, he knew little 
of books and nothing of men, except by hearsay. 
It was at this time he commenced a course of his- 
torical readings, suggested by Mr. Tinsley. 

The salutary influence of scholarly associations 



HENRY GLAT. 189 

has been felt and acknowledged by many of our 
most eminent men. Some one has said, " A man is 
known by the company he keeps." It is true that 
one's thoughts and actions are shaped by the com- 
pany he keeps, be it in the form of books or men. 
Franklin always attributed his usefulness to the early 
reading of Cotton Mather's " Essays to do Good;" 
and Dr. Wolff was stimulated to his missionary 
career by reading the Life of Francis Xavier. The 
same benign result has been experienced in personal 
companionship with the learned. Sir Francis Horner 
always sought fellowship with a higher standard of 
mind than his own. Of intelligent men he had 
associated with, he says : " I can not hesitate to 
decide that I have derived more intellectual improve- 
ment from them than from all the books I have 
turned over." Lord Shelburne, when a young man, 
paid a visit to the venerable Malesherbes, and 
was so much impressed that he said : " I have 
traveled much, but I have never been so influenced 
by personal contact with any man ; and if ever I 
accomplish any good in the course of my life, I am 
certain that the recollection of M. de Malesherbes 
will animate my soul." Bonaparte said he never 
knew how to be a gentleman until he met Talma, 
the actor. 

Thus were moral tone and intellectual healthful- 
ness imparted to Henry Clay by contact with that 
ripe scholar and hoary " signer of the Declaration," 
Chancellor Wythe. Counsel from self-made men is 
always more wholesome to a struggling boy than 



190 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

from one that has paced the primrose path with 
his gold-headed cane. George Wythe had felt the 
surging waves of aspiration beating in his own breast, 
during an early orphanage, and knew from experience 
the bitter adversity begotten by contact with super- 
fluous wealth. The flush of fortune and the profligacy 
of youth had well-nigh destroyed his ambition. 

Hence in his frequent visits to Mr. Tinsley's office, 
it was with pain he observed the dissipation of the 
clerks ; but he also remarked, with satisfaction, the 
stubborn resistance with which Henry met every fast 
tendency, and the conscientious self-sacrifice with 
which he would forego good dressing, to save the 
few dollars he was now earning for future use. He 
knew what industry could accomplish, for after having 
wasted all his substance in riotous living, he com- 
menced, in manhood, to recover his lost time. By 
diligent application he was enabled to atone, in some 
measure, for his misspent years, so that he came 
to be a conspicuous advocate even before the 
Revolution. 

He procured from Mr. Tinsley the services of 
Henry Clay, as an occasional secretary, to copy his 
decisions. Even now in his advanced years Chan- 
cellor Wythe prosecuted his studies with great 
diligence and far-reaching investigation: in learning, 
industry and sound judgment he had few equals, 
and to act as the private secretary of such a man 
was itself an education. An intimate friendship 
soon grew up between the gray and white hairs. 
The Chancellor loved Henry as a son, and Clay 



HE NET CLAY. 191 

venerated him as a father and teacher. Advice in 
strict legal knowledge, classics, history, and polite 
literature, poured upon the young secretary in an 
unceasing current. He was a constant student, 
needing only suggestions to turn his mind in right 
directions. 

A hint from any source that bore upon his culture 
he seized eagerly and implicitly obeyed it. No friend 
who counseled him was ever made to feel that he was 
in the least degree inattentive. Thus rewarding help 
by docility, he soon enlisted many friends in his 
welfare. While he was deprived of the thorough 
scholastic training that was possessed by Choate and 
Calhoun, yet he was receiving an intellectual and 
practical drill that was specially adapted to his mind. 
He was unique in two particulars. First he abounded 
in intuitions, and besides this, his powers of general- 
ization were broader than usually fall to the lot of the 
lawyer. So that, all in all, he was competent to cope 
successfully with his more illustrious compeers. 

At the age of nineteen he decided to study law, 
and to this end was enrolled as a student in the office 
of Attorney-General Brooke. The preceding three 
years had been so skillfully manipulated in this 
direction that, after one year of regular study for the 
bar, he was admitted into the Court of Appeals, as 
an attorney, though yet a minor. 

With that unflagging determination to ''reach up" 
for his friends, we find him at this time forming the 
acquaintance of John Marshall, afterward Chief 
Justice of the United States. These companionships 



192 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

were never maneuvered for. In no sense would he 
truckle or plot for position. His upward bent 
of mind and manly aspirations caused him to seek 
them without conscious assumption. It was not 
arrogance in Clay; he simply could not tolerate 
the society of those who knew no more than he. 
Whenever he found a Gamaliel, he sat, as a teach- 
able Saul, at his feet. He was never afraid to ask 
questions. In this he seemed plagued with Socrates' 
ghost, excepting that what the Athenian did in sly 
cynicism, he did deferentially. He cornered every 
old judge he met, plying him with suppositious cases, 
wishing to know what his "honor" thought, until he 
would have charmed any Common Pleas judge in 
the nation into friendship. 

So it was in the sciences, in theology, politics, 
history, literature, every thing in which he was not 
posted. He seized upon the first man he thought 
could inform him, and honestly applied the divining 
rod, that he too might know. His frank questionings 
thus secured to him an encyclopedia of thoughts and 
facts which, in the same length of time, he could 
have gained in no other way. 

He could not help being a patriot. He had an 
opportunity of acquiring at the fountain-head a 
knowledge of the meaning of the founders of the 
republic, in the constitution which they drew up, and 
the laws which were passed explanatory of it. His 
intimate relationship with Wythe, Marshall, Brooke, 
and many other political patriarchs, apprised him of 
the cost of the Union, with which, really, his life may 



HENRY CLAY. 193 

be said to have begun ; and in his later years he 
proved himself, on many occasions, to be the friend 
of his country, and one of its ablest defenders, 
whether the danger came from foreign foes or from 
internal dissensions. 

Clay was now twenty years of age, and a mem- 
ber of the Richmond bar. Still he displayed no 
intellectual superiority. He was a member of a liter- 
ary society, quite active in its interests, and always in 
his seat, but his occasional remarks were considered 
by no means superior to those of the majority. He 
was not remarkable for those brilliant things which 
flashed from Ensign Erskine. But he was noted for 
his straightforwardness and indefatigable energy. 
The fires of ambition were now burning at a white 
heat. He longed for an opportunity to try his 
powers, and put his thumb on Nature's pulse, that 
he might learn what destiny she was bearing him 
to. He craved a field of battle as earnestly as 
Marathon's victor prayed for the tardy sun to hasten 
up. Yet he felt that he could not make that start 
in Richmond, in the presence of his old friends. His 
eagle eye was not in " the keeping of the gods," 
and his sensitive nature shrank from possible defeat. 
However, his eager soul could wait no longer for the 
battle. It was then he left Richmond, and, as though 
anticipating Greeley, came West. 

He overlooked Cincinnati, Louisville,, and Frank- 
fort, and settled in Lexington, Kentucky. Why he 
chose this point is not known, unless it was to be 
near his mother, who had emigrated to this place a 
13 



194 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

few years before. Of this period he writes : " I estab- 
lished myself in Lexington in 1797, without patrons, 
without the favor or countenance of the great or 
opulent, without the means of paying my weekly 
board, and in the midst of a bar distinguished by 
eminent members. I remember how comfortable I 
thought I should be if I could make one hundred 
pounds, Virginia money, per year, and with what 
delight I received the first fifteen shillings fee." He 
did not enter at once upon the practice of law in 
Lexington, but allowed some months to pass in 
farther preparatory studies, before he applied for 
admission as a practitioner. He had a guaranty of 
success in his modest estimation of his own acquire- 
ments; and knowing the distinguished men with 
whom he would have to cope, he preferred to wait 
and review his studies and discipline his mind by 
renewed application. 

These waiting months were put in more assidu- 
ously than ever in sharpening his weapons and 
polishing his mental armor. He was modest, unas- 
suming, still feeble in constitution, languid and listless 
in his movements, giving no indication of the mighty 
purpose that was forming in his breast. But it must 
out ere long, or his frail body that was already 
tottering under the load would be crushed from 
the recoil of its own strength. It was at this time 
he became a member of that famous debating club 
wherein he made his first speech that attracted 
attention, and which he said gave him more self- 
confidence than any thing he had ever done, up to 



HENRY CLAY. 195 

that time. The question had been discussed at con- 
siderable length, and apparently with much ability, 
on which the customary vote was about to be taken, 
when he observed in an undertone to a person seated 
by him, " The subject does not seem to be exhausted." 
The individual addressed exclaimed, "Do not put 
the question yet ; Mr. Clay will speak." The chair- 
man, by a smile and nod of the head, signified his 
willingness to allow the discussion to be continued, 
and Clay thereupon arose under every appearance 
of trepidation and embarrassment. The first words 
that fell from his lips were, " Gentlemen of the jury." 
His embarrassment now was extreme; blushing, 
hesitating, and stammering, he repeated the words, 
" Gentlemen of the jury." The audience evinced 
genuine politeness and good breeding, by seeming 
not to notice his peculiarly unpleasant and trying 
position. Their courtesy restored his composure. 
He gradually gained control of his mind ; his ideas 
began to flow clear, and his persistent straining after 
correct forms of speech caused them to be happily 
expressed. An earnest desire to thoroughly redeem 
his opening speech from the appearance of failure 
which it first assumed, quickened his intellect and 
fired his emotions. Whatever credit for abilities his 
silent good sense might have acquired for him 
before, his success now surprised and delighted 
his audience. That was an auspicious evening to 
him. It lifted the long-closed flood-gates and let 
the pent-up determinations go forth to action. It 
cast the horoscope of destiny, and gave assurance 



196 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

that the predictions of the old Chancellor would 
be realized. 

Clay was now on his way to make a successful 
lawyer. That speech, in profundity of thought, 
eloquence, and effect on the audience, was, of course, 
far short of the stupendous character that history 
has assigned it. It was an unusual speech for a 
debating club, but, like Patrick Henry's great first 
speech, it was the gathered thunders of many days, 
and, pealing from a clear sky, it was more startling 
than grand. Thenceforward he considered his ability 
to make a speech no longer a question. The expec- 
tations of the community were to be allies on his 
side, and he himself had awaked to a consciousness 
of his power. 

To every class of mind there is something fasci- 
nating in the eloquence of profound feeling. It arises, 
in part, from a natural admiration of the display of 
lofty power. But perhaps none give themselves up 
so entirely to its influence as do the unlearned and 
uncritical. Unaccustomed to dissemble their emo- 
tions, impulsiveness becomes their ruling habit ; and, 
with something of the simplicity of children, they 
yield themselves to the power of the orator. Elo- 
quence is regarded by them with more enthusiasm, 
perhaps, than even military exploits; by which, notori- 
ously, they are dazzled; and the orator who can 
sway them at his will is more applauded than the 
successful general. 

Such minds demand fervor, and even vehemence, 
in their speakers, and can more easily forgive a little 



HENRY CLAY. 197 

infelicity of reasoning than tameness in sentiment or 
manner. 

Among such people, most fortunately, Henry Clay 
found himself when the consciousness of his power 
as an orator first flashed upon him. In the town of his 
residence, many of the citizens were highly intelligent 
and refined ; but " the country people," as they were 
termed — those who constituted the mass of the 
population — were distinguished by the characteristics 
of pioneer life: a resolute independence, thorough, 
practical common sense, the utmost frankness of 
l feeling and manners, and unbounded admiration for 
rousing oratory. 

Occasions likewise favored the budding reputation 
of the young orator. Demagogism was from the first 
abhorrent to his soul. However much he might seek 
to work upon the sympathies of his susceptible 
audiences, he never prostituted his powers to artifice 
nor appealed to local and unworthy prejudices. He 
delighted in expatiating upon those cherished princi- 
ples of freedom, for which our country had but just 
triumphantly fought. In such themes he could 
indulge his loftiest declamation without offense to his 
high sense of honor. 

It is related of Erskine that, after his first speech, 
he had placed in his hand retaining fees from thirty 
eminent lawyers. The services of Henry Clay were 
now beginning to be considered desirable. But promi- 
nence at that Lexington bar was no light laurel 
to win. George Nicholas, John Breckinridge and 
William Murray practiced there — men whose names 



198 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

and fame were familiar to the nation. Such an array 
seemed to set competition at defiance. Clay had 
fled from Richmond, but in fleeing from the elephants 
plain he had plunged into the lion's jungle. 

They found in the boy, however, a formidable 
competitor. He was bland, courteous and affable in 
the ordinary intercourse of life : in the social circle 
he was firm in his positions ; but if one, taking an 
opposite position, became vehement or ultra-positive, 
he yielded the ground as gracefully as possible, 
frequently causing his friends to feel that he lacked 
self-assertion. Yet, on the field of civic strife he was 
as unyielding and invulnerable as the Rock of Gib- 
raltar. He studied address and manner with the 
devotedness of Roscius, the actor, who questioned 
Cicero's eloquence by asserting that he could make a 
certain speech more effective by his pantomime than 
Cicero by his declamation. While Clay was acquiring 
reputation in society and as an orator with a pleasur- 
able degree of rapidity, his legal practice was not so 
forward in its growth. 

His first celebrity as an attorney was acquired in 
the criminal practice ; and yet he never prosecuted 
but one man — a negro, charged with killing his 
overseer. Him he brought to the gallows, but he 
ever after regretted it. His feelings forbade his 
being a successful prosecutor : every instinct of his 
nature was on the side of the unfortunate. Although 
a crime was atrocious and premeditated, his clemency 
was so great, he felt there must be a place for 
repentance and, therefore, for salvation. But his 



HENRY QLAT. 199 

acute sensibilities and philanthropic heart made him 
highly effective in a defense. 

Among his first criminal cases was the defense 
of a father and son for a murder that was cold- 
blooded and of the most aggravated character. Clay 
felt the force of the opportunity, and determined to 
make an heroic effort. He realized that 

" There is a tide in the affairs of men 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; 
Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows and in miseries." 

So that, when the wave struck him, he gave himself 
to the current, unfurled his sails and steered for port. 
When Rufus Choate had an important case, he knew 
no rest. He pursued it with unremitting toil through 
the day, and was haunted by it at night. He did 
not labor on the general features of the case alone ; 
the minutest details were ferreted out and mastered 
with a conscientious devotion amounting to a 
passion. He entered his trials haggard and care- 
worn, but with the settled conviction of success to 
sustain him, and, when the victory came, its tonic 
dispelled all the exhaustion of labor. So Clay 
approached this case with a devotion akin to wor- 
ship. Success here, he felt, would be a turning-point 
in his practice, and he put in an honest bid for 
"general employment." 

He studied every case on the records that was at 
all similar to the present one. He prepared himself 
so that he could not possibly be surprised on any 



200 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

point that might come up. No other thought was 
permitted to enter his mind for weeks. He ate with 
it and slept with it. His whole being was rushing 
on in one mighty current of effort for the prisoners' 
liberty. At last the trial was called, and its conduct 
lasted five days. Clay was equal to every emergency ; 
but the evidence was overpowering. The act, done 
as it was in broad daylight, was undeniable. No 
conjuring could justify the deed ; no palliation was 
possible. The defense was managed with con- 
summate skill, but there were the stubborn facts 
unchanged. 

Clay realized that the prosecution was as well 
prepared as the defense, and saw that unless he 
adopted other tactics, all was lost. He still had a 
reserve in the background, in a thoroughly prepared 
speech. He arose to address the jury under the 
desperation of a forlorn hope. The breeding aspira- 
tions of many months were in danger of being 
blighted at a moment when he expected them to 
ripen into fruition. The anguish of what he esteemed 
the lost cause gave a pathos to his voice, a flash to 
his eye and a dignity to his mien that he never 
possessed before. He was bold, impassioned and 
tearful. You would have thought two saints in the 
prisoners' pen were being crushed under the heel of 
an iron law. The jury deliberated an hour, and 
brought in a verdict of manslaughter only. For an 
instant the people were amazed; then they burst 
forth, " That speech did it." Clay himself was con- 
founded. 



HENRY CLAY, 201 

His wits were at work at once. There was still a 
hope of victory. A breach had been made. He 
flew to his feet and moved an arrest of judgment. 
All day long he contended for his motion, and toward 
evening he was rewarded by securing the liberty of 
his clients. This well-fought battle, with its victory, 
brought to him a criminal practice greater than his 
most sanguine hopes had anticipated. He had 
studied diligently and long, had preferred thread- 
bare clothes to ignorance and debt, had lived the 
life of a recluse, forswearing the world's joys; and 
now, having overcome, there did not lack for those 
who delighted in paying him honor. Henceforth he 
was established as the " criminal's defendant." 

At the close of the trial his clients expressed their 
warmest gratitude to their deliverer, promising a 
better life in the future. The corpulent little woman 
that one of the men called wife and the other mother, 
was unbounded in her expression of thanks. When 
the judge ordered the sheriff to set the prisoners free 
she made a dive for Clay, who was yet in his seat, 
throwing her arms around his neck in the most 
frantic manner. He leaned forward to her embrace 
with such sweet tenderness that the crowd burst into 
wild applause. Confused, he rose up and straight- 
ened out his long body, which lifted the fat little 
lady off her feet and left her clinging to his neck. 
The crowd yelled like demons. Almost smothered 
with her kisses and his own blushes, he bent over 
with all the dignity the circumstances would permit 
and set his fair charge on the floor a^ain. His honor 



202 SUCGESS IN LIFE. 

lost his dignity, and, leaning back in his chair, said 
to the sheriff, " Sam, let 'em holler." 

Mr. Clay manifested great sagacity in discerning 
and turning to his advantage a technical law point 
involving doubt. Like the carefully prepared extern- 
pores of Sheridan, he was equipped with legal points 
and arguments for any issue that could possibly 
arise. 

It has been thought that Mr. Clay's success as 
a lawyer was altogether owing to his eloquence. 
This is far from the facts in the case. Petit jurors 
are not all fools. There are often as good minds in 
a jury box as: among the advocates before it, unless it 
is a "professional" jury. Clay's appeals to the jury 
were of the same character as his arguments before 
the judges. Indeed, he spoke alike on all occasions, 
for he had but one style of oratory. To debar him 
from its eagle swoop was to leave him a shorn 
Samson. Like De Quincey, his soul must spread its 
wings and go to the same height, whether discoursing 
on philosophy or ordering the cook to cut the 
mutton with the grain. The vast compass of his 
legal knowledge drawn from his extensive reading 
and questioning, made him as thorough and efficient 
in the civil practice as he was powerful in the criminal. 
He was not one of those attorneys who, knowing no 
law, when the case is presented, descends into the 
details, asking more questions than a homeopathic 
physician of his patient. A brief outline was enough. 
His knowledge was so profound and complete he 
at once saw its relation to the established rules 



HENRY CLAY. 203 

of practice, and knew whether it would be lost 
or won. 

He seemed to have a penchant for complicated 
cases — those where the weight of the law seemed 
evenly balanced on each side. In that early day, in 
Kentucky, land claims were frequently arbitrated. In 
the settlement of these he rendered himself very 
conspicuous. He really liked this practice more than 
he did the criminal, and his success in it was fully as 
eminent. It is related of him that being engaged in 
one that involved immense interests, he associated 
with him a prominent lawyer to whom he intrusted 
its management, as urgent business demanded his 
absence from - court. Two days were occupied in 
discussing the legal points that were to govern the 
instructions of the court to the jury, on all of which 
his colleague was frustrated. Mr. Clay returned 
before a decision was rendered, and without acquaint- 
ing himself with the nature of the testimony, or ascer- 
taining the manner in which the discussion had been 
conducted, after conferring a few minutes with his 
associate, he prepared and presented in a few words 
the form in which he wished the instructions to be 
given, accompanying it with his reasons, which were 
so convincing that the suit was terminated in his 
favor in less than an hour after he re-entered the 
court-room. 

Mr. Clay belonged to nature's aristocracy. He was 
a born king, but his crown sat so naturally on his 
brow that men paid him reverence who never saw 
the insignia of his power, although they were light- 



204 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

ened by its luster. He moved in the world feeling 
that no man had better blood or more royalty than he. 
And yet he felt that every other man possessed all 
that he did, He recognized all mankind as his 
brethren. He held humanity to be of common 
parentage, and that the plastic hand of one Father 
molded us all in Eden. Constitutionally he would 
have rebelled against Darwinism. He was modest 
but masterly in his views of things. Versatility was 
the offspring of his wide-reaching effort. 

If he found his religion largely in the worship of 
nature, he recognized no fetish for a God. At once 
courtly and refined, his dignity of soul added height 
and moral grandeur to his stature. His manner of 
address was the same whether in the company of 
the ignorant dame or the cultivated lady — with the 
buckskinned backwoodsman or the spectacled D.D. 
He never straightened nor unbent, forgot his chivalry 
nor assumed gravity, before peasant or prince. To all 
and with all he was the same true gentleman. In 
this particular it is hard now to find his equal, unless 
we fall upon Hugo. 





CHAPTER IX. 

HENRY CLAY. 

[continued.] 

LAY was living in a country where the metal 
of manhood needed to be polished on all 
sides. The rectangular life of a Jefferson might 
possibly pass current in circumspect Virginia, pre- 
sided over, as she was, by the Episcopal parsons; 
but when he pushed into the interior of Kentucky, 
and met the disciples of Daniel Boone, the laced 
jacket of political stateliness was considered tawdry 
livery. Much as a demagogue is to be likened to 
the chameleon, in the presence of such a shrewd 
constituency some keen eye will detect the true 
color. Before it, nothing can save a man from 
exposure, excepting to have nothing to expose. 
Manhood never flinches, though placed under the 
most sensitive touch-stone ; and nature's nobleman 
is the only character that is flexible enough to bend 
and adapt itself to all kinds of people. 

In 1807, Mr. Clay was a candidate for the Legisla- 
ture of Kentucky. One day, while on his canvassing 
tour, addressing a crowd, a party of riflemen, who 
had been practicing, attracted by his voice, drew near 



206 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

to listen. They were pleased with the off-hand and 
attractive style of his oratory, but considered there 
were other qualifications necessary to fit one for the 
legislative hall, besides talk. One of their number, 
who had evidently seen much backwoods service, 
stood leaning on his rifle, regarding the young 
speaker with a fixed and most sagacious look. 

He was the Nimrod of the company, and was clad 
in buckskin breeches, hunting-shirt and coon-skin 
cap, with a visage as tanned as his bullet-pouch. At 
his belt hung knife and hatchet, and, over his breast, 
the indispensable powder-horn. The countenance of 
this man looked as true as his rifle's shot or his 
knife's steel. When the speech was closed, he 
beckoned to Mr. Clay, who immediately approached 
him. " Young man," said he, " you want to go to the 
Legislature, I see." " Why, yes," replied Clay — "yes, 
I should like to go, since my friends have seen proper 
to put me up as a candidate before the people. I do 
not wish to be defeated." The old man straightened 
himself up, and, looking over his broad manors — the 
unsettled forests — he turned and said, " Are you a 
good shot?" Clay replied that he considered him- 
self the best in the country at some things. " Then 
you shall go to the Legislature ; but we must see 
you shoot." "But," said Clay, " I never shoot any 
rifle but my own, and that's at home." " No matter," 
said Nimrod, "here is Old Bess; she never fails in 
the hands of a hunter. She has put a bullet through 
many a squirrel's head, at a hundred yards. If you 
can shoot with any thing, you can with Old Bess? 



HENRY CLAY. 207 

" Put up your mark, put up your mark," said Clay, 
for he saw there was no escape, and he was resolved 
to try, hit or miss. The target was placed at eighty 
yards, when, with all the coolness of an old marksman, 
he drew Old Bess to his shoulder and fired. The 
bullet pierced the bull's-eye — to his own complete 
surprise. "Oh! a chance shot! a chance shot!" 
cried his political opponents. " He might shoot all 
day and not hit it again. Let him try it over." " No; 
beat that, and I will," retorted Clay. No one 
accepted the fair offer, and he, willing to let well 
enough alone, retired from the crowd, bearing the 
glory of a "capital shot." He had done honor to 
the Kentucky weapon, and every hunter voted for 
him. He went to the Legislature by an over- 
whelming majority. 

He had in after-life more fame in rifle practice 
than he desired. When in Europe, as commissioner 
to make a treaty with England, at the close of the 
war of 1 812, he was represented in an English paper 
as the man who killed Tecumseh, and it was further- 
more gravely stated that he manufactured razor- 
strops from the skin of the Indians he killed! 

Clay's genius and talents, now seen and acknow- 
ledged by all, had gained for him high professional 
honors, and fitted him to act a prominent part on 
another and more extended field — that of the patriot 
politician. The date of his entrance on this field may 
be placed as far back as 1797, and it is worthy of 
particular remark that the first subject he was led to 
investigate on approaching it, was one peculiarly 



208 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

calculated to call into exercise those prominent 
features of his character, philanthropy and patriot- 
ism. Slavery, although existing in Kentucky in its 
mildest form, could not and did not appear to him 
otherwise than unsightly and revolting — an evil, and 
one of great magnitude ; nor did he hesitate to pro- 
nounce it such. To him, its practical tendencies, in 
public and civil no less than in private and social life, 
were obviously bad. He saw it diffusing its baneful 
influences through the halls of legislation, and twining 
its sable folds around the very pillars of government, 
contaminating and withering all that it touched. His 
was not the position of an unmoved or speculating 
observer; the mightiest energies, the holiest impulses 
of his nature, were kindled within him, to arrest its 
progress. But in yielding, as he did, prompt obedi- 
ence to those emotions, he did not rush, madman-like, 
impelled by a blind zeal, into the work, regardless of 
results. The sanguinary consequences of such a 
course rose up and stared him full in the face, with 
most appalling power, nor could he shut his eyes to 
the palpable fact that it would inevitably eventuate 
in the utter annihilation of those very interests he 
sought to protect. It appeared necessary, therefore, 
to advance cautiously : to sit down, and, divested of 
all prejudice, wisely count the cost. He found it 
requisite to act the part of a skillful and experienced 
operator, not that of a conceited empiric ; to have 
the bandage and the liniment ready before resorting 
to the scalpel and cauting-iron. After taking the 
most enlightened view of the subject, regarding it in 



HENRY CLAY. 209 

all its aspects and bearings, he came to the conclusion 
that the only method to insure the safety of the 
body politic, and preserve inviolate the institutions 
upon which the republic was founded, was gradual 
disengagement. Hence he sought by every available 
means to secure the introduction of a provision to 
that effect, in a new constitution, then under con- 
sideration for adoption. Happy would it have been 
for Kentucky had she listened to the entreaties of 
her son in this behalf. 

Mr. Clay was now exceedingly popular. No man 
in his state could be called his rival. Opponents he 
had, and scores of them. They harassed him by 
day, and pursued him slanderously through the night. 
To all this he gave little heed. True, he was worn 
and sickened by it, but he never once relaxed his 
studies or his aspirations. No young man can hope 
to pass to professional success unscathed by jealous 
rivals. If he would win the smiles of those who are 
his equals, he must be content to remain on their 
level. Sure as he moves beyond them one step, he 
severs the tie that binds them together, and they 
become his enemies. If, like the sensitive Keats, he 
cowers before their criticism and innuendoes, rushes 
into despair, and dies of a broken heart, they will 
gratefully cherish his memory by garlanding his 
grave with passion flowers and poetry; but if he 
persists in obeying the star of his destiny, if he 
listens only to the monitions of his own " most pro- 
phetic and oracular soul," it must be for many days 
with the timid countenance of faint-hearted friends, 
14 



210 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

the treacherous help of pretended ones, and in spite 
of the open opposition of rivals and enemies. 

To stop half way is to be damned. Expectation is 
blasted, self-respect is crushed, and envy has accom- 
plished its malign purpose. Many a man of good 
ability has been swept before this storm, wrecking 
every possibility. Just here is where Grant's "uncon- 
ditional surrender " needs to be operated, or Bulwers 
grit, or Collyer's " salt." If Calhoun had shrunk when 
his school-fellows laughed at his congressional aspira- 
tions, he would never have belonged to the immortal 
Triumvirate. Had Disraeli fled when the galleries 
and seats jeered him, he would never have spent a 
quarter of a century practicing " ins and outs " with 
Gladstone. If Nelson had hesitated when the sailors 
said, "What! make a captain out of that little 
fellow ? " he would never have led the British fleet to 
victory. If the boy West had cried and quit because 
the cat scratched him when he was pulling the hairs 
out of her tail to make a brush, he would never have 
been a great painter. 

If any man had reasons for faltering before the 
machinations of rivals and the treachery of false 
friends, that man was Henry Clay. But all such 
opposition only increased his inclination to study, 
and deepened his determination to get on. He soon 
passed up to the second story of achievement, and 
only a few of his most implacable enemies pursued 
him thither. Once succeed in establishing yourself 
above the level of your old associates, thus passing 
beyond their sphere, and rivalry soon ceases. It is, 



HENRY CLAY. 211 

also, in many instances a good method of converting 
foes into friends. 

Mr. Clay had taken so prominent a part in ques- 
tions that had involved the interest of the entire 
state that he was chosen for the United States 
Senate in 1809. He at once engaged actively in 
senatorial business. Earnestness was the chief cause 
of his success. His eloquence could have contributed 
no lasting prosperity if his heart had not swelled, 
at all times, with an honest desire to know and do 
his whole duty. He was a patriot of the type of 
Themistocles, in whose bosom devotion to country 
was the ruling principle. We therefore see him 
refusing to take a position on any matter without 
giving it the gravest consideration. His soul was 
surcharged with the eternal principles which underlie 
the Declaration and the Constitution, and whenever 
a state or national movement would not drop into 
place, in the great temple, without the sound of a 
hammer, he rejected it as a stone of stumbling and 
rock of offense. Such was his sagacity, never but 
once, in his public career, did he find need to change 
his opinion and advocate a measure he had once 
opposed. 

When he entered the Senate he found it discussing 
the erection of a bridge over the Potomac. Its 
erection was strongly desired by the inhabitants of 
Washington and Alexandria, and as strongly depre- 
cated by those of Georgetown. Many efforts were 
made by both parties to secure his services in aid 
of their particular interests, but nothing definite 



212 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

could be ascertained respecting his views in relation 
to the bill, and he refused to commit himself by 
pledging his support or opposition to it. He was 
not, though, indifferent to the proposed measure, but 
diligently employed himself in settling in his own mind 
the question of its constitutionality, and in deciding 
on its expediency. The result of his investigations 
was the conviction that it was sanctioned by the con- 
stitution, and a judicious measure of internal policy. 
He so regarded it in a speech which he made 
in its favor, by which he succeeded in producing 
a similar conviction in the minds of all the mem- 
bers who had not pledged themselves to oppose 
it, and thus secured its passage. This speech, although 
never reported, is represented as one of his happiest 
efforts, distinguished for satire and humor, as well as 
for gravity and sound logical argument; indeed, as 
embodying all the characteristics of a perfect specimen 
of eloquence. From the ground there taken, and the 
first time publicly, as to what he deemed true govern- 
mental policy, in relation to internal improvement, he 
never afterward receded. With proud satisfaction 
may the friends of that system of which he has been 
justly styled "the Father]' point to this unparalleled 
example of unwavering adherence and fidelity to 
principles since demonstrated to be the only perma- 
nent source of our national prosperity. 

In 1 8 1 1 , the causes of complaint against England 
were renewed. Her officers in foreign service omitted 
no opportunity of displaying toward us their inso- 
lence. One of our vessels of war had been fired 



HENRY CLAY. 213 

into, almost within our own borders. They forcibly 
entered our ships, and, under the pretext of searching 
for their fugitive sailors, impressed our seamen. 
According to a statement in Congress, seven thou- 
sand of our countrymen were, at the moment of the 
report, forcibly detained in her service. All remon- 
strance proved ineffectual. Lord Castlereagh treated 
contemptuously the idea that England would relin- 
quish her right of search. 

War or national servitude was inevitable. Ran- 
dolph, Pitkin and Quincy opposed war. Randolph 
pleaded that we were unprepared for war. We were 
without a navy, without an army, without munitions 
of war. Thus he met every effort to strengthen our 
weakness with vigorous opposition. Pitkin brought 
all his personal influence and logic to bear against 
the war, or any bill looking to preparation for 
defense. Quincy opposed the war spirit with his 
unrivaled characterizations. Speaking of the war, he 
observed: "There is nothing in history like this war 
since the invasion of the buccaneers. The disgrace 
of our armies is celestial glory compared to the 
disgrace reflected on our country 'by this invasion 
[the proposed invasion of Canada] ; yet it is called 
a war for glory! Glory? Yes, such glory as that 
of the tiger when he tears the bowels from the lamb, 
filling the wilderness with its savage roars ; the glory 
of Zenghis Khan, without his greatness; the glory of 
Bonaparte. Far from me and mine, and far from my 
country be such glory !" 

Mr. Clay replied to him in a speech of most 



214 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

pointed yet merited rebuke, and couched in language 
that stung like a scorpion. 

A correct idea of the effect produced it is impossible 
to gather from his reported speech, though in general 
accurately given. Look, tone, gesture, and manner 
contributed largely to its greatness — perhaps as 
much as the "thoughts that breathe and words that 
burn," which in one continuous stream fell from his 
eloquent lips, causing the hearts of his hearers to 
thrill alternately with pleasure and pain. It is repre- 
sented as having been an exquisite specimen of grand 
eloquence — a felicitous blending of the beautiful, 
pathetic and sublime. He seemed to wave the en- 
chanted wand of the fabled magician, now spreading 
peace and quiet, now causing the most stormy emo- 
tions to swell the hearts of those who listened to 
him. Members of both political parties — men whose 
patriotic souls had been sustained by his eloquence, 
and those who had been writhing and agonizing 
under his indignation, forgot their antipathies and 
wept together. 

Mr. Clay had the pleasure of seeing the bill, as 
advocated by him, pass the House, on the fourteenth 
of January, 1813, by a vote, of seventy-seven to forty- 
two. On the sixteenth (having passed the Senate) 
it received the signature of the President ; and thus 
was taken another and very important step in carry- 
ing out that system of manly and bold resistance 
devised and introduced by him, and which was des- 
tined to redress all our grievances and restore our 
violated rights. 



HENRY CLAY. 215 

During the interval between the adjournment and 
re-assembling of Congress, Mr. Clay watched the 
progress of the war with the most intense interest. 
This was the all-absorbing subject of his soul, engag- 
ing its every faculty and principle ; and the efforts 
which he made to secure its successful termination 
were as strenuous as they were unremitted. In public 
assemblies, in private circles, it was the theme on 
which he dwelt continually, and around which he 
twined the richest wreaths of his oratorical and collo- 
quial skill. 

The histories of the Grecian and Roman republics 
furnish many instances of exalted, self-sacrificing 
patriotism — of those who under its influence met 
death as joyfully as they would have met a friend. 
Inspired by this principle we hear one of their bards 
exclaim : 

" Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." 

It is sweet and glorious to die for one's country. 

But the lofty action of Mr. Clay in connection with 
this his country's crisis, his prompt response to her 
cry for aid, his unwavering attachment to her cause, 
and his ardent devotion to her interests, present an 
example of patriotic love and zeal, which may be 
placed by the side of similar ones on the records of 
those nations, without the slightest fear of disparage- 
ment — indeed, as justifying the belief that if she had 
required a similar sacrifice, the victim would not have 
been wanting. 

Russia soon offered her interposition to bring 



216 SUCCESS IJSf LIFE. 

about peace, which was finally accepted by the two 
countries. Mr. Clay, with Gallatin, Bayard, Adams, 
and Russell, acted as negotiators on the part of 
America; and Lord Gambier, Goulbourne; and 
Adamos, for the British. The Commissioners met 
at Ghent, and the conference resulted greatly to 
the benefit of America. The odious right of search 
was relinquished. The navigation of the Mississippi 
was denied to English vessels. The privilege of 
fishing in British waters was not withdrawn. The 
impertinent claim to extend a supervision over our 
Indian tribes, was abandoned. And so well were the 
principal rights which were contended for established, 
that America never since has had occasion for those 
complaints which drove her reluctantly into conflict 
with her haughty foe. 

After concluding negotiations, Mr. Clay proceeded 
to Paris. He delayed, as yet, to go to England; for 
during his residence at Ghent, he had learned with 
chagrin of the capture of Washington. But while he 
remained undecided, the intelligence came of the 
battle of New Orleans. " Now," he exclaimed, " I can 
go to England without mortification." 

The results of the war, so highly satisfactory to 
American pride, carried a significance far beyond 
such emotions. It decisively stamped our army and 
navy as the equal of England's, and therefore the peer 
of any in the world. We were not simply an inde- 
pendent nationality, but were an established power 
among the nations. To lead the country in the war, 
control her negotiations for peace, and seat her on 



HENRY CLAY. 217 

the lofty basis of equality with the " established 
powers," while yet an infant nation, was an achieve- 
ment of statesmanship that must rank side by side 
with the deeds of him who was "first in war, first 
in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." 

Mr. Clay did not appreciate at that time the 
salutary results that were to accrue to his country 
from these labors. He only saw the imminent danger 
threatening the nation's commerce and prosperity. 
This calamity, as a patriot, he sought to avert, 
endeavoring to build a bulwark against it for all 
coming time. Devotion to his country's interests 
alone filled his breast. Had he been actuated by 
ambition or lust of personal glory, no such service 
could have been accomplished. But when he labored 
under the imperious dictates of necessity, duty and 
honor, it nerved his arm and impelled him to heroism 
of conduct that the mere politician or glory-seeker 
can never know. 

Mr. Madison acknowledged the merit and abilities 
of Mr. Clay, by offering him, upon his return from 
Europe, after the treaty of peace, the situation of 
Minister to Russia, and again, upon the occurrence 
of a vacancy in his Cabinet, the Secretaryship of 
War. Thus honors poured in upon the rising states- 
man from every quarter. Success had smiled upon 
him from the first. By none of the artifices of the 
demagogue; by no special solicitation of any kind, 
he had risen to such estimation, that honors, instead 
of being sought by him, might almost be said to 
have come to him soliciting acceptance. 



218 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

He declined the offers of the Executive, and 
re-entered the halls of legislation to battle for internal 
improvements and home industry. Political senti- 
ment, from the day on which the Constitution was 
adopted, had been divided as to the right which 
that instrument confers to carry on systems of 
improvement within the different states at the 
expense of the Federal Government. Mr. Clay 
brought all his vast resources to the support of the 
constitutional right and duty of the government to 
control improvements of a general interest in the 
states. He had the satisfaction of seeinp* the bill 
pass. The wholesome growth that has resulted to the 
states and nation therefrom proves it to be a wise 
and generous measure. 

He also advocated home industry. He was so 
intensely American that he could not tolerate the 
idea of importing any thing from foreign countries. 
His plan was to foster our own manufactures and 
encourage invention until there would be no need 
of foreign goods. It is a remarkable fact, that the 
first two subjects which demanded and secured his 
aid on entering Congress, were those of primary 
importance to the welfare of the republic — subjects 
subsequently shown in the unillusive light of expe- 
rience to be not only as intimately connected 
with private as with public prosperity, but as 
constituting the very lungs of Liberty herself. 

Now the increasing prospect of war served 
in some degree to arouse the nation from that 
lethargic state of indifference in which it had so 



HENRY CLAY. 219 

lone slumbered. At least, it was deemed advisable 
to anticipate such an event by making provision for 
the materials usually needed in such an emergency. 
Accordingly, a bill was introduced to appropriate a 
sum of money to purchase cordage, sail-cloths, and 
the ordinary munitions of war, and so amended as 
to give preference to articles of domestic growth and 
manufacture, provided the interests of the nation 
should not suffer thereby. Mr. Lloyd, a Senator from 
Massachusetts, moved to strike out the amendment 
granting the preference, and supported his motion by 
a long and powerful speech. A general and inter- 
esting discussion ensued, in which the policy of 
extending direct protection by the Government to 
domestic manufactures was considered. Mr. Clay 
was among the first to avow himself decidedly in 
favor of the policy, and by his speech made at the 
time proved both its expediency and wisdom. 

Mr. Clay was brilliant in illustration, and always 
made an effort to demonstrate, as far as possible, the 
correctness of his positions. Especially did he make 
a vigorous attempt at this soon after the above 
speech. A Western vine-grower had presented him 
with some specimen bottles of American wine. So 
pleased was he with this evidence that we need not 
go abroad even for luxuries, that on going to Wash- 
ington, he carried a bottle or two with him to astonish 
the anti- American -system men with the American 
vintage. It was produced by him at a public table, 
duly prefaced with a brief "protective speech." Upon 
tasting it, his guests, in spite of their politeness, 



220 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

looked awry and confused. Mr. Clay hasted to put 
it to his own lips, and found it was — Lexington 
whisky. Some of the hands about the house had 
drunk the wine and refilled the bottles with some- 
thing decidedly American, but still quite foreign to 
the purpose. 

The next important measure in which we find Mr. 
Clay engaged is the famous " Missouri Compromise." 
This was not a struggle between this and other 
governments, but the more deadly evil of civil 
dissension. For the first time, he was demanded to 
pacify fraternal strife. He had earned proud laurels 
on foreign fields, but he was now to take the helm 
of state when every sailor quaked, and every piece 
of timber trembled — to guide her safely through the 
storm. In 1787, while the states were united, as yet, 
simply by articles of confederation, an ordinance was 
unanimously agreed to for the government of the 
territory northwest of the Ohio. This ordinance, 
among other provisions, declared that "there shall 
be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude in the 
said territory, otherwise than the punishment of 
crimes whereof the party shall be duly convicted." 
This provision had been strictly adhered to, up to 
the date of the application of Missouri for admission. 

Prior to 1820, when the Missouri question was 
settled,' ten states had been added to the original 
thirteen. Among these were Vermont (separated 
from New York) and Maine (from Massachusetts) 
— states in which slavery was not mentioned; 
besides Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois, from the territory 



HENRY CLAY. 221 

north and west of the Ohio. By the constitutions 
of these last three states, slavery was expressly 
excluded, in accordance with the terms of the ordi- 
nance above mentioned. To balance these five free 
states, Tennessee (from North Carolina) Kentucky 
(from Virginia), Louisiana (from the Louisiana 
purchase) and Mississippi and Alabama (from lands 
ceded to the United States by Georgia), had been 
admitted into the Union. In these states slavery 
had not been forbidden, as they formed portions of 
territory formerly held by slave states ; and occupied, 
so far as settled, by slaveholders. 

The State of Missouri was formed out of a part 
of the Louisiana purchase; and it was contended that 
the new state should follow the precedents of the 
other states which had been created out of slave 
territory. Louisiana had slaves, and as Missouri 
was another portion of the same purchase, it was 
demanded that she should be received on the same 
footing as a slaveholding state. The argument had 
weight, independent of any question as to slavery, 
upon its merits or demerits. If any state under the 
Constitution and the precedents established was 
entitled to hold slaves, Missouri had that right; since 
the French province of Louisiana, of which her terri- 
tory formed a part, recognized slavery. 

Missouri's petition to become a state was forced, 
in the war of debate that arose, to go over until 
the next session of Congress. The whole country 
became aroused over the question, and party feeling 
ran higher than ever before. Mr. Clay labored 



222 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

heroically to reconcile the painful differences. Just at 
this time financial embarrassments compelled him to 
resign his office as Speaker of the House, and betake 
himself again to the practice of his profession. But 
the threatening attitude of the contending parties 
did not permit him to remain away long. Leaving 
behind what had now become the lesser concerns of 
private interest, he resumed his seat in Congress. 

His undoubted patriotism, his tried integrity, his 
unrivaled popularity, pointed him out as the only man 
in the nation who was able to bridge the chasm. 
Measure after measure was proposed, but to no avail. 
Excitement ran higher, and party lines were more 
distinctly drawn. Finally, Mr. Clay succeeded in 
getting a joint committee appointed from the two 
Houses to consider the case, before which he intro- 
duced his famous " Missouri Compromise," which 
was, that Missouri should be admitted as a slave 
state, with a proviso that in all the territory ceded to 
the United States by France, north of latitude thirty- 
six degrees, thirty minutes, slavery shall not exist; 
the limits of Missouri being excepted. 

The report when laid before the House was adopted 
by a vote of eighty-seven to eighty-one. Missouri 
acquiesced in it, and thus, at last, was settled the 
question which threatened at one time to rend 
asunder the Union, and kindle the flames of civil war. 
It was in this great conflict that Mr. Clay received 
the name of the Great Pacificator. 

Mr. Clay's wit was as vigorous as his eloquence, 
and, like Sheridan's humor, it often served to parry 



HENRY CLAY. 223 

what logic and declamation could not have met. He 
never sought to hide a mistake, but frankly confessed 
every failure, which restored to him the confidence 
of those who were retiring from his support. He. 
always oiled the blunder with his pleasantry so that 
you actually thought more of the man than before. 
On one occasion he voted for the "Compensation 
bill," which was to increase the pay of congressmen 
to fifteen hundred dollars per session. This of course 
gave the demagogues an opportunity to fire the 
minds of the people against the " stall-fed aristocrat." 
In the next canvass Mr. Clay met an old hunter who 
had previously been his devoted friend, but now 
opposed him on the ground of the Compensation bill. 
" Have you a good rifle, my friend ?" asked Mr. Clay. 
" Yes." " Does it ever flash ? " " Once only." " What 
did you do with it ; throw it away ? " " No, I picked 
the flint, tried it again, and brought down the 
game." " Have I ever flashed but on the Compensa- 
tion bill?" " No." "Will you throw me away?" 
"No! no!" quickly replied the hunter, nearly over- 
whelmed by his enthusiastic feelings, " / will pick the 
flint and try you again ! " Ever afterward he was 
the unwavering friend of Mr. Clay. 

His wit was not like Chamfort's, epigrammatic and 
pointed at the follies of the time. He was too 
intensely earnest for this. Neither was it like Dr. 
Johnson's, which never failed to hit its object, but 
when the bomb broke it flung fire on friend and foe 
alike. He was neither morose nor sour enough for 
this. Rather, like Chatham, the humor came bubbling 



224 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

up from a soul jolly as a tar's, yet sober and chival- 
rous as Achilles'. While it cut deep, it seldom failed 
to elicit a smile, even from his victim. 

On one occasion, the late General Alexander 
Smyth, of Virginia, a gentleman of unusual ability 
and erudition, had spoken a long time, fatiguing 
and vexing the House with the length and number 
of his quotations and citations of authorities, and 
justified his unbearable prolixity by saying to Mr. 
Clay, who was seated near him, " You, sir, speak for 
the present generation, but / speak for posterity," 
"Yes," he immediately replied, "and you seem 
resolved to speak until the arrival of your audience ! " 

During his long occupancy of the Speaker's chair, 
he was characterized by an eminent spirit of justice. 
His decisions were seldom appealed from, and when 
they were, they were almost invariably sustained by 
the House. He seemed to act as though he were 
conscious that his country stood at his side, with her 
piercing eyes fixed full upon him, reading the secrets 
of his heart — as though he heard her voice sounding 
in his ears, imploring and beseeching him to guard 
and watch faithfully over those interests which she 
had so unreservedly placed in his hands, and when- 
ever he lifted his arm, or opened his mouth, it 
seemed to be for the single purpose of executing her 
revealed will. 

About this time Mr. Clay became a candidate for 
the Presidency. He was universally believed to be 
the choice of the people, but a combination of circum- 
stances threw the election into the House, and defeated 



HENRY CLAY. 225 

his aspirations. His own hopes, crushed and bleeding, 
could not chill the ardor of his intense patriotism. 
Like Demosthenes, his country was above party, and 
for her prosperity he was willing to be sacrificed. 
During the canvass he sent for a friend to advise with 
him on a certain measure. The friend, guarding 
Mr. Clay's chances above all else, suggested that it 
might be unfortunate for his Presidential prospects. 
"I sent for you," said Mr. Clay, " to advise with me 
whether this would be right, Sir. I would rather 
be right than be President" 

The tariff of 1824, which was levied with the 
most conscientious regard for the good of the nation, 
and the encouragement of home industry, proved 
in its practical application to be a grievous burden. 
While it protected New England, it sapped the very 
life out of the industries of the South and West: 
it fostered a powerful moneyed interest in one section 
of the country at the expense of the other. Legis- 
lative redress appeared impossible in .the face of 
the dominant party, and more extreme measures were 
threatened. 

South Carolina especially denounced the law as 
unconstitutional and odious ; threatened to disregard 
it, and entered upon a course which bore the appear- 
ance of open rebellion. 

General Jackson was at the head of the Govern- 
ment. He detested the law almost as much as South 
Carolina, but since it was a law, he determined that, 
at all hazards, it should be obeyed. Inflammatory 
meetings were held at Charleston. Open resistance 



226 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

to the officers of Government was recommended. 
Materials for war were collected. Mean while United 
States troops were sent to the disaffected state. 
Jackson, it was believed, would bombard at the least 
provocation the city of Charleston, and hang as 
traitors Hayne, Calhoun and others of the leaders. 
Intense excitement pervaded the country. 

Randolph, broken down with age and yet more by 
disease, was aroused by the sounds of coming strife. 
"Lifted into his carnage like an infant," says his 
biographer, " he went from county to county, and 
spoke with a power that effectually aroused the 
slumbering multitudes." " In the course of his speech 
at Buckingham he is reported to have said : ' Gentle- 
men, I am filled with the most gloomy apprehensions 
for the fate of the Union. I can not express to you 
how deeply I am penetrated with a sense of the 
danger which, at this moment, threatens its existence. 
If Madison filled the Executive chair, he might be 
bullied into some compromise. If Monroe was in 
power, he might be coaxed into some adjustment of 
this difficulty. But Jackson is obstinate, headstrong, 
and fond of fight. I fear matters must come to an 
open rupture. If so, this Union is gone!' Then 
pausing for near a minute, raising his finger in that 
emphatic manner so peculiar to his action as a 
speaker, and seeming, as it were, to breathe more 
freely, he continued : ' There is one man, and one 
man only, who can save this Union — that man is 
Henry Clay. I know he has the power. I believe 



HENRY CLAY, 227 

he will be found to have the patriotism and firmness 
equal to the occasion.'" 

Mr. Randolph was not mistaken. Mr. Clay proved 
to have alike "the power," "the patriotism" and "the 
firmness." At this juncture he once more evinced 
how great and unselfish was his patriotism. In the 
language of one who was not a political friend, " With 
parental fondness he cherished his American system : 
with unyielding pertinacity contended for it to the 
last extremity ; but, when it became a question 
between that and the integrity of the Union, he did 
not hesitate ; like Abraham, he was ready to sacrifice 
his own offspring on the altar of his country, and to 
see the fond idols he had cherished perish, one by 
one, before his lingering eyes." 

He introduced a bill which received the name of 
the Compromise Tariff Bill. From it, for the sake 
of his country's peace, he excluded most of those 
features which were odious to the South, however 
fondly they had been cherished by himself. His 
sacrifice was not unavailing. Thus, once more, 
devotion to country triumphed over the dangers of 
partisanship. 

Mr. Clay was now growing old, and resigned his 
seat in the Senate, for his health was rapidly failing. 
But the alarum of internal dissension was a^ain 
sounded, and the worn and dying veteran could not 
rest in peace at Ashland. Once more he buckled on 
his armor and rushed to the front. This time it was 
to effect the great " Compromise of 1850." The vigor 



228 SUGGE88 IN LIFE. 

and enthusiasm of youth no longer attend him. 
The hopes and buoyancy of other days have fled. He 
goes not to that Senate now in the strength and 
pride of 1806. He goes wrapped in bandages, racked 
with pain, lifted like an infant, so frail that even the 
prairie's breeze threatens to blow his life away. 

A scene, that American Senate chamber — clothed 
in no gorgeous drapery, shrouded in no superstitious 
awe or ancient reverence for hereditary power ; but to 
a reflecting American mind more full of interest, of 
dignity, and of grandeur than any spot on this broad 
earth not made holy by religion's consecrating seal. 
See him as he enters there tremblingly, but hopefully, 
upon the last, most momentous, perhaps most doubt- 
ful conflict of his life. Many a gay tournament has 
been more dazzling to the eye of fancy, more gorgeous 
and imposing in the display of jewels and cloth of 
gold, in the sound of heralds' trumpets, in the grand 
array of princely beauty and of royal pride. Many 
a battle-field has trembled beneath a more osten- 
tatious parade of human power, and its conquerors 
have been crowned with laurels, honored with 
triumphs, and "apotheosized" amid the demigods of 
history ; but to the thoughtful, hopeful, philanthropic 
student of the annals of his race, never was there a 
conflict in which such dangers were threatened, such 
hopes imperiled, or the hero of which deserved a 
warmer gratitude, a nobler triumph, or a prouder 
monument. 

Generals are tried by examining the campaigns 
they have lost or won, and statesmen by viewing the 



HENRY CLAY. 229 

transactions in which they have been engaged. 
Hamilton would have been unknown to us had 
there been no Constitution to be created ; as Brutus 
would have died in obscurity had there been no 
Caesar to be slain. So, when history shall relate the 
struggles which preceded and the dangers which were 
averted by the Missouri compromise, the tariff com- 
promise of 1832, and the adjustment of 1850, the 
same pages will record the genius, the eloquence, 
and the patriotism of Henry Clay. 

Like the pine, which sometimes springs up amid 
the rocks on the mountain side, with scarcely a 
crevice in which to fix its roots, or soil to nourish 
them, but which, nevertheless, overtops all the trees 
of the surrounding forest, Henry Clay, by his own 
inherent self-sustaining energy and genius, rose to 
an altitude of fame almost unequaled in the age in 
which he lived. He was born in the wilds of a new 
empire, without patronage or wealth. At an age 
when our young men are usually advanced to the 
higher schools of learning, he turned his steps to the 
West, provided only with the rudiments of an 
English education, and amid the rude collisions of 
a border-life, matured a character whose highest exhi- 
bitions were destined to mark eras in his country's 
history. Beginning on the frontiers of American 
civilization, the orphan boy, supported only by the 
consciousness of his own powers, and by the confi- 
dence of the people, surmounted all the barriers of 
adverse fortune, and won a glorious name in the 
annals of his country. Let the generous youth, fired 



230 SUCCESS IW LIFE. 

with honorable ambition, remember that the American 
system of government offers on every hand bounties 
to merit. If, like Clay, orphanage, obscurity, poverty, 
shall oppress him; yet if, like Clay, he feels the 
Promethean spark within, let him remember that his 
country, like a generous mother, extends her arms to 
welcome and to cherish every one of her children 
whose genius and worth may promote her prosperity 
or increase her renown. 

To convey a clear idea of Mr. Clay's eloquence is 
impossible. Like that of Chatham and Patrick Henry, 
it must live only in tradition. In his published 
speeches, the reader searches in vain for the spell 
which bound his hearers. Like that of every great 
orator, it was not words alone ; it was the fullness of 
the man — his gestures, his matchless voice, his dilating 
form, his attitudes, and the glances of his enkindled 
eye. These are things which are beyond the power 
of the reporter; and yet these are the things in which 
reposed the secret of his power. The eloquence of 
Webster was the majestic roar of a strong and steady 
blast, pealing through the forest ; but that of Clay 
was the tone of a god-like instrument, sometimes 
visited by an angel touch, and swept anon by all the 
fury of the raging elements. He never, perhaps, in 
any parliamentary effort came up to the mark of 
Webster's reply to Hayne, but on all ordinary 
occasions there could be no comparison. While 
Webster was almost uniformly dull, Clay was always 
animated and interesting. His sensibilities were keen 



HENRY CLAT. 231 

and powerful, easily moved, and impetuous as an 
ocean storm. 

Webster, on the other hand, was, on ordinary 
occasions, cold and phlegmatic. And yet Clay to 
produce an effect never descended to vulgarity. He 
was always above demagogism and the low tricks 
of the politician. He despised such methods to 
obtain success, although the most ambitious of men. 
He was a proud-spirited, high-toned gentleman, and 
his oratory never revealed him in any other light. 

It has been the custom of his biographers to 
represent him as an " orator born," and knowing all 
things by intuition. Every man who is a success in 
a calling has a strong predilection for that calling, 
and Mr. Clay's natural bias was in favor of public 
speaking. But he also brought into requisition every 
element of his being to the one aim. He was a 
tireless student, and not until failing health and 
advancing age bore heavily upon him did he forego 
his habit of self-culture. He studied eloquence and 
style even in ordinary conversation, and courted the 
society of persons noted for grace of manner and 
power of expression, that he might educate himself 
in this art. The fascination of his manner and con- 
versation was almost equal to that of his eloquence. 

Mr. Clay was ever willing to confess his industry, 
and in his talks to young men freely told them of his 
rising at early dawn, and burning the candle until 
midnight in his search after knowledge. In an 
oration before the Ballston school, speaking of his 
own attainments as a speaker, he said : 



232 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

"I owe my success in life to one single fact, viz.: 
that at the age' of twenty-seven I commenced, and 
continued for years, the process of daily reading 
and speaking upon the contents of some historical or 
scientific book. These off-hand efforts were made 
sometimes in a corn-field, at others in the forest, and 
not unfrequently in some distant barn, with the horse 
and ox for my auditors. It is to this early practice 
of the great art of all arts that I am indebted for the 
primary and leading impulses that stimulated me 
forward, and have shaped and molded my entire 
subsequent destiny. Improve, then, young gentle- 
men, the superior advantages you here enjoy. Let 
not a day pass without exercising your powers of 
speech. There is no power like that of oratory. 
Caesar controlled men by exciting their fears ; Cicero 
by captivating their affections and swaying their pas- 
sions. The influence of the one perished with its 
author ; that of the other continues to this day." 

Mr. Clay had two aims in life: To master his pro- 
fession and stand at the head of the Lexington bar; 
the other, after he had become a statesman, was to 
be President of the United States. The first he 
achieved ; the last he never reached. He labored as 
only the man of conscientious ambition can labor, to 
do his whole duty. Therefore, in seasons of great 
national peril, his devotion to country was so much 
greater than to self that he forgot ambition in seeking 
the country's good. On one occasion, acting under 
its influence, he said to Mr. Grundy, "Tell General 
Jackson that if he will sign that bill [the Land bill], I 



HENRY CLAY. 233 

will pledge myself to retire from Congress, and never 
enter public life again!' Such self-immolating polit- 
ical purity demands reverence. My country, my 
country, seems to have been the constant subject of 
his thoughts and wishes. This attribute gave to his 
commanding eloquence its invincible power, and was 
the solid foundation on which he reared the temple 
of his immortal fame. 

Mr. Clay died in the seventy-sixth year of his age, 
June 29, 1852. When Kentucky proposed the vain 
memorial of a statue, Thomas F. Marshall, one of her 
most gifted sons, gave utterance to the following 
lofty tribute: 

"The friends of Mr. Clay meditate the construction 
of a monument, to mark the spot where repose the 
remains v of that frail tenement which once held his 
fiery soul. It will be honorable to them, and will form 
a graceful ornament to the green woods which sur- 
round the city of which he had himself been so long 
the living ornament; but it will be useless to him or 
his fame. He trusted neither himself nor his fame to 
mechanical hands or perishable materials. 'Exegit 
monumentum perennius cere! They may lay their 
pedestals of granite ; they may rear their polished 
columns till they pierce and flout the skies; they may 
cover their marble pillars all over with the blazonry 
of his deeds, the trophies of his triumphant genius, 
and surmount them with images of his form wrought 
by the cunningest hands; it matters not — he is not 
there. The prisoned eagle has burst the bars, and 
soared away from strife, and conflict, and calumny. 



234 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

He is not dead — he lives. I mean not the life eternal 
in yon other world of which religion teaches ; but here 
on earth he lives, the life which men call fame, that 
life the hope of which forms the solace of high 
ambition, which cheers and sustains the brave and 
wise and good, the champions of truth and human- 
kind, through all their labors — that life is his beyond 
all chance or change, growing, expansive, quenchless 
as time and human memory. He needs no statue — 
he desired none. It was the image of his soul he 
wished to perpetuate, and he has stamped it in 
himself in lines of flame upon the souls of his country- 
men. Not all the marbles of Carrara, fashioned by 
the chisel of Angelo into the mimicry of breathing 
life, could convey to the senses a likeness so perfect 
of himself as that which he has left upon the minds 
of men. He carved his own statue, he built his own 
monument. In youth he laid the base broad as his 
whole country, that it might well sustain the mighty 
structure he had designed. He labored heroically 
through life on the colossal shaft. In 1850, the last 
year of the first half of the nineteenth century, he 
prepared the healing measures which bear his name, 
as the capital well proportioned and in perfect keeping 
with the now finished column, crowned his work, saw 
that it was good and durable, sprang to its lofty 
and commanding summit, and, gazing from that lone 
height upon a horizon which embraced all coming 
time, with eternity for his background, and the eyes 
of the whole world riveted upon his solitary figure, 
consented there and thus to die." 



Hucft anii ^iucft. 



It is better to be born lucky than wise. — English. 

Pitch the lucky man into the Nile and he will come up with 
a fish in his mouth. — German. 

"A great deal that is called luck consists in good management." 

Burden not the back of Aries, Leo, or Taurus with thy faults ; 
nor make Saturn, Mars, or Venus guilty of thy follies. — Sir 
Thomas Browne. 




236 




CHAPTER X. 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 




OW much of a man's success is due to favora- 
ble circumstances, is a difficult matter to 
define. The majority of those great results attributed 
to luck, have come to be recognized as nothing more 
than opportunities well improved. The falling of the 
apple at Newton's feet was a favorable circumstance. 
But apples had fallen at the feet of a thousand men 
before. The difficulty was, not one of this thousand 
had ' been devoting years of patient study to the 
subject of gravitation. But Newton's mind was pre- 
pared, and the circumstance flashed upon him a 
discovery already germinating in his brain. 

Bonaparte, doubtless, owed, in some degree, his 
upward start to favorable circumstances. The same 
circumstances had been thrown around a multitude 
of men during the long months of the Reign of 
Terror; but not another man in all the nation had 
been studying military science and the passions of 
men as he had been studying them. Seized and 
thrown into prison at Marseilles, an officer entered 
his room one night, a couple of hours after midnight, 



237 



238 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

to inform him of his release. He found him dressed 
and seated at his table, with maps, books and charts 
spread out before him. " What ! " inquired the officer, 
u are you not in bed yet?" "In bed!" Bonaparte 
replied ; " I have had my sleep, and am already risen." 

When the Convention said, " Defend us from the 
mob," it was the falling of an apple at Newton's feet 
— lightning playing down Franklins kite-string — 
fortune flowing into previously cut channels. 

To clearly comprehend Napoleon's marked career, 
one must go back to those times when France, with- 
out a leader, was the football of every gamester. 

The National Convention was in the utmost 
trepidation; for, in those days of anarchy, blood 
flowed like water, and life had no sacredness in Paris. 
It was not a mob of a few hundred straggling men 
and boys, who, with hootings, were to surround their 
hall and break their windows, but a formidable army 
of forty thousand men, in battle array, with artillery 
and muskets, headed by veteran generals who had 
fought the battles of the old monarchy, and who, 
with gleaming banners and trumpet tones, were 
marching down from all quarters of the city upon 
the Tuileries, prepared to sack its halls and deluge 
Paris in blood. The Reign of Terror was raging in 
unabated fury. 

Bonaparte saw Menou march to quell the insurrec- 
tion, and turn and flee before their insane yells like 
a cowardly poltroon. He ran through the streets to 
the Tuileries, and, ascending the gallery where the 
Convention was assembled, contemplated, with a calm 



LUCK AND PLUCK, 239 

eye and a heart apparently unagitated, the scene of 
consternation there. It was now eleven o'clock at 
night and the doom of the Convention seemed sealed. 
In the utmost alarm, Menou was dismissed. But 
who could do better? Successful resistance seemed 
impossible, and to be unsuccessful was certain death. 
Barras arose amid the awful stillness of the chamber. 
" I know the man who can defend us," he nervously 
exclaimed. " It is a young Corsican officer, Napoleon 
Bonaparte, whose military abilities I witnessed at 
Toulon. He is a man that will not stand upon 
ceremony." 

Barras called him down from the gallery. The 
Convention expected to see a man of soldierly bearing, 
brusque and imperious. To their surprise, there 
appeared before them a small, slender, pale-faced, 
smooth-cheeked young man, apparently about eight- 
een years of age. The President said, "Are you 
willing to undertake the defense of the Convention?" 
{< Yes !" was the laconic reply. After a moment's hesi- 
tation the President continued, "Are you aware of 
the magnitude of the undertaking ? " Bonaparte 
fixed that eagle glance upon him, which few could 
meet and not quail before, and replied, " Perfectly; 
and I am in the habit of accomplishing that which I 
undertake." He then added, " I must be entirely 
untrammeled by any orders from the Convention." 

This appointment threw open to Napoleon Bona- 
parte the gate to empire and glory. As the light of 
morning dawned upon the city, the Tuileries 
presented the aspect of an intrenched camp. Guns 



240 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

were posted so as to sweep every avenue of approach 
to the capital. The armed hosts, in black masses 
surged down the narrow streets of the city. The 
members in their seats, in silence and awe, awaited 
the fearful assault, upon the issue of which their lives 
depended. Five thousand troops stood against 
forty thousand. Napoleon, pale and silent, charged 
his guns to the muzzle, and calmly surveyed the 
advancing columns, resolved that the responsibility 
of the first blow should fall upon his assailants, and 
that he would take the responsibility of the second. 

He waited not long. A moment more, and the 
rushing hosts hurled a volley of bullets at the hand- 
ful of defenders. It was the signal for an instan- 
taneous discharge, sanguinary and merciless, from 
every battery. Explosion followed explosion in quick 
succession, and a perfect storm of grape-shot swept 
the thronged streets. The pavements were covered 
with the mangled and the dead. The columns 
wavered — the storm still continued; they turned — 
the storm still raged unabated ; they fled in utter 
dismay in every direction — the storm still pursued 
them. Then Napoleon commanded his little division 
to follow the fugitives. As the thunder of their 
heavy guns reverberated along the streets, the 
insurgents fled in every direction, and in an hour the 
foe was nowhere to be found. Napoleon had saved 
the Convention and established the new government 
of France. And now, as unmoved as if no event of 
importance had occurred, he re-entered the Tuileries. 

He had passed that "gate," and was entering into 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 241 

his possessions. It was a lucky thing for him when 
he was given supreme command of the Conventions 
army, and so it was for Menou when he was given 
command. But Napoleon was equal to his luck, and 
went to a throne ; Menou added cowardice to his 
luck, and went down in disgrace. 

There is no lack of fortune ; it is scattered plentifully 
along every man's path ; it is thrown into men's faces, 
as opportunity was thrust upon Menou ; but the 
majority of men, unlike Napoleon, never see their 
chance and add pluck. 

Very few men ever fail on account of a lack of 
ability, if the world is to accept their story They 
will sometimes grant that they have weak eyes, or a 
sour stomach, or a torpid liver; but who ever heard 
a man confess that he was a poor logician, or was 
not able to comprehend the finest metaphysical 
point, or had " a weak head?" We meet men who 
are forever talking about their frail bodies, but never 
knew one to discourse on the frailty of his mind. 
If he can't split as many rails in a day as his neigh- 
bor, it is because he is not as strong. If he fails to 
clear as many dollars this year as that neighbor, it is 
not because his mind is not as good — not that ; it is 
because he has had bad luck. 

There is not in the whole vocabulary of moral, 
social and business bankrupts a single failure but it 
is laid at the door of bad luck. Men never find 
themselves to blame for their disasters. Every one 
thinks himself a little pope, and that all the rest of 
mortality are fallible. Thoughtlessness, negligence, 

16 



242 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

recklessness, fast horses, big dinners, frequent jaunts 
from home, leaving one's business to indifferent 
clerks, invoicing but seldom and hence knowing little 
about the outlays — these are matters seldom recog- 
nized as having much influence on the Christmas 
balance-sheet. Ultimate failure, in such instances, 
is cast upon the side of loss as a matter of luck. 
Bad luck is a treaty that every failure has gotten up 
with himself: whether he be pickpocket or politician, 
some mediocre man of big hopes and no grit, or a 
broken-down presidential candidate, he slinks behind 
this barricade at every repulse, feeling that he would 
have succeeded if luck had not turned against him. 

Unfavorable circumstances sometimes surround 
men, and no matter how heroically they strive against 
their fate, the relentless monster will not quit until 
their every prospect is ruined. Do not at such a time 
go to saying, 

"There's a divinity that shapes our ends, 
Rough-hew them how we will." 

A just and righteous Providence could not, in the 
very nature of eternal fitness, lash you to destiny 
with a hangman's whip. You may get into the vise 
of circumstances, and have the last dollar squeezed 
out, and be wholly helpless. Daniel Drew had been 
a successful speculator for many years. A combina- 
tion of events, over which he could exercise no 
control, enveloped him, and the old veteran went to 
the wall, divorced of every dollar. Scipio hurled his 
legions against the solid squares of Hannibal, that 



LUCK AAD PLUCK. 243 

had stood invincible through many battles, and all 
the fine maneuvers, all the shrewd deploys, all the 
impetuous charges, all the prestige of a hundred 
cloudless victories could not save the Carthaginian. 
His cohorts, baffled and beaten, fled in utter rout, 
and left Scipio the victor. Twenty million throats 
yelled themselves hoarse for Robespierre. The same 
voices as recklessly cried, " To the guillotine ; " and his 
head rolled into the basket with those of common 
criminals. One can no more control the 'circum- 
stances that surround him, at times, than London 
could control the ravages of the Black Plague. 

Then, good fortune pursues some men, and showers 
her smiles upon them, whether they will have them 
or not. James Lick entered San Francisco with a 
few thousand dollars, bought property, and went into 
business in an ordinary way. The vicious little 
village became a great city, and the "squatter" 
became a sovereign : he died worth millions. Byron 
was a desperate character; he cared for no man or 
thing. He roamed the wild seas over, a moral 
buccaneer. He wrote as he drank, to drown the 
everlasting torment of a soul filled with wretchedness. 

'* Cut from the sympathies of life, 
And cast ashore from pleasure's boisterous surge, 
A wandering, weary, worn, and wretched thing, 
A scorched, and desolate, and blasted soul, 
A gloomy wilderness of dying thought — 
Repined, and groaned, and withered from the earth." 

All he ever did was to fill the cup for self, and on 
his lips the draught ever turned to woe. He never 



244 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

traveled a league or wrote a line from desire of 
posthumous fame. Yet honors flowed upon him 
from every quarter; his advice was sought; his smile 
was courted ; offices were proffered him ; he was 
given a high seat among the "canonized" bards; — 
he was great in spite of himself. 

Beau Brummel with his lucky sixpence bagged 
^40,000 in London and Newmarket. He would 
oftentimes shut his eyes and play his card at random, 
winning every game. There are men with ability far 
below the average whose Midas-like touch turns every 
thing into gold — physicians who don't know an 
enlargement of the aorta from the black leg, yet have 
double the practice of learned men ; lawyers who do n't 
know whether Justinian or Justin the Martyr was 
the " Father of Law," whose names are to be found 
on every other case of the court docket ; merchants 
who are ignorant of the common laws of business, 
whose counters are thronged with customers, and 
who die rich ; ministers whose heads may be full 
of theology, but whose crowded pews could teach 
them the gospel for many Sundays ; teachers who 
could be taught by many of their pupils ; and mayors 
of cities who are unable to govern their own families. 
There are fifty gentlemen who are writing M.C. 
after their names this minute who are intellectually 
inferior to five times fifty of their constituents. 

It is a fact that sheer indolence and an utter lack 
of "git up" is sometimes the source of vast fortune ; 
as with the man in the early days of Chicago, who 
traded a mule for an acre lot, and after tramping 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 245 

from pillar to post for twenty years, turned up to 
claim the lot, and through defective tax sale the 
worthless scamp held the property, worth $100,000. 
Again, those rough, rocky, non-producing farms in 
Pennsylvania that no man of energy would farm, 
gradually drifted into the hands of a shiftless, do- 
nothing class of people. Yet, many of these people 
became millionaires when " oil was struck." 

These and a multitude of other instances that 
come under each man's personal observation have 
produced a wide-spread belief in the potency of 
luck. One-half the people down deep in their hearts 
ascribe all destiny to luck. Many of the most suc- 
cessful men have been very pronounced in their faith. 
Baron Rothschild held that luck was more valuable 
than energy or ability ; and he would never engage 
in a business enterprise with an unlucky man, no 
matter how great his talents. Bonaparte believed in 
his star. Clement L. Vallandigham, the celebrated 
politician of Ohio, accidentally shot himself, and 
w T hen his physician told him he was dying, said, 
it could not be true, for he had not yet fulfilled 
his mission. Louis XIV believed that he was born 
on a lucky day, and Frederick the Great thought 
he would never lose a battle if he could commence 
it before sun-up. Cromwell also had a lucky birth- 
day, and other lucky days, when he hailed a battle 
with delight, for his horoscope pointed to victory. 
Yet his lucky day proved to be the day on which he 
died. And even sturdy old General Jackson is said 
to have given hints that he believed in fortune. 



246 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

In our days of push and perseverance this 
confidence in unexplainable success is hardly so 
pronounced as it was among the ancients. Caesars 
faith in his good luck was as unwavering as a Mussul- 
man's in the Koran. Once when a storm threatened 
to sink the vessel, he sat unmoved, and amid the 
prayers and tears of the passengers told the pilot, 
"You carry Caesar and his good fortune," Cicero 
held that the gods controlled circumstances to the 
success of Scipio and Marcellus. "It was not only 
their courage," he says, " but their fortune which 
induced the people to intrust them with the com- 
mand of their armies. For there can be little doubt 
but that, besides their great abilities, there was a 
certain fortune appointed to attend upon them, and 
to conduct them to honor and renown, and to 
uncommon success in the management of important 
affairs." Scipio himself concurred with Cicero, and 
believed that his lucky star eclipsed the sun at the 
battle of Zama, affrighting the Carthaginian hosts, 
and giving him an easy and notable victory; for it 
closed the second Punic war victoriously for Rome. 
Xerxes, Hannibal, and Alexander, depended much on 
luck, and Pliny says, " Some people refer their 
successes to virtue and ability ; but it is all fate." 

When we see Paris set on fire at twenty different 
places at one time and not burn, New York involved 
in a hundred conflagrations and not be seriously 
injured; and Mrs. O'Leary's cow kick over a lantern 
and burn Chicago ; when we find Jeremy Bentham 
ascribing his turn of thought and conduct through 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 247 

life to the accidental reading of a single phrase, " the 
greatest good of the greatest number ; " when we see 
a man "cut untimely from his mother's womb," found 
sleeping under a tree, when an infant, by the side of 
a rattlesnake, in as many dangers by fire as Kate 
Claxton, have three different mates killed by his side 
in battle, hung by a mob and left for dead, and 
finally step on a shingle nail and die from the wound; 
when we learn that Jacob bought a birthright and a 
blessing for a mess of pottage, and afterward worked 
as a servant for seven years to get the woman he 
loved, and then had to take another and work other 
seven years for Rachel — we are prepared to confess 
an element of chance in human affairs. 

While circumstances may make or mar a man, it is 
equally true that he may often make his circum- 
stances, It is only a jealous spirit that finds in luck 
the secret of others' success. It is very commonly 
said : " Oh ! General Stout was very fortunate in not 
being cut up at Battlebury;" "Captain Salt is a lucky 
fellow to escape with his ship from that Atlantic 
cyclone;" "It was a happy accident that gave Mr. 
Puzzlebrain the clew to the working of that machine." 
The fox in the fable thought the grapes sour because 
he could not get at them. Suppose old Salt did 
luckily escape the cyclone : by his industry he loaded 
quickly at Calcutta ; he has studied the law of storms 
for years, and knew how to make the most of every 
vagrant breeze ; he has led his officers and crew by 
his own courageous spirit — and it is all these that 
have caused him to make the quickest trip on record, 



248 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

evading the storms and enriching his employers. It 
is the old adage fulfilled, " Fortune favors the brave." 

Admitting every thing that can be reasonably 
claimed for the controlling influence of luck, in nine- 
tenths of the cases the results can be traced to the 
conduct of the individuals themselves. If, through 
carelessness and indolence, the helm is left unmanned, 
and the vessel careens into a trough of the sea, it is 
too late, when the waves are rolling over the deck, to 
"right her ; " circumstances have now the control. 
There was a time when you could have been ahead 
of circumstances and managed your destiny. 

Seek to be superior to circumstances by under- 
standing their causes and coming. Throttle them in 
time, making of yourself a greater circumstance than 
any you meet. To work straight ahead is not 
enough ; the work must be put in at the right time 
and in the right way. Two men of the same abilities 
enter a business, having the same aim ; one reaches 
great eminence^ and the other fails. It is because 
they do not really labor alike. Two boys, twin 
brothers, at the age of sixteen were employed as 
clerks in a large retail store. They were equals in 
all noticeable respects: they decided that one day 
they would own that store. One of the boys did his 
cellar and package duties with a willing step and a 
smile, solicited custom, and cared for his employer's 
interest. The other did what he was told to do, but 
no more, quarreled about his wages, whined because 
he was not promoted, and said that the world owed 
him a better living. Eventually he left the store 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 249 

and went to knock somewhere else for luck. The 
one is now a partner in a wholesale house, and the 
other is clerking in his wife's millinery shop. 

Circumstances are stepping-stones to a man of 
metal, by which he is enabled to go to any reasonable 
height. They are the blasts which blow over the 
mountains to toughen the sinews of the traveler, that 
he may surmount the loftiest peaks and thus secure 
the vast resources of the mountain. Wolsey would 
never have been the great cardinal if he had not 
strengthened his muscle by lusty blows on beeves' 
heads, and then come to the faith that he could upset 
circumstances as readily. On he stepped by the sheer 
force of conquering obstacles until his ambition 
became too vast for the church and clutched the 
empire in its grasp. So, Kirke White stepped over 
battles with bullocks, and conflicts longer and more 
stubborn, until he unexpectedly found his name linked 
with great accomplishment. Michael Faraday believed 
that if he had not been compelled to hammer iron at 
his fathers forge, then serve as an apprentice book- 
binder, and afterward struggle for years for bread and 
knowledge, he would never have excelled his master, 
Sir Humphry Davy, in lucidly expounding the 
abstruse points in natural science, 

Arkwright and Akenside, Bulwer and Beethoven, 
Cuvier and Correggio, Davy and DeFoe, Eldon and 
Ellenborough, Franklin and Flaxman, Guthrie and 
Grundy, Herschel and Holcroft, Ignatius and 
Irenaeus, Inigo Jones and Rare Ben Jonson, Kant 
and Kepler, Laplace and Lorraine, Miller and Milton, 



250 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Nelson and Newton, Opie and O'Conner, Pelissier 
and Pestalozzi, Quincy and Quintilian, Richter and 
Reynolds, Sixtus V and Sainte-Beuve, Turnip Towns- 
end and Taglioni, Upham and Urban II, Vattel and 
Victor Emmanuel, West and Wayland, Ximenes and 
Xenophon, Ypsilanti and Young, Zwingle and Ziska 
— by adverse circumstances were developed to their 
great powers: difficulties were the unhewn steps by 
which they went to sublime accomplishments. 

Some men start toward fortune, but not finding an 
"open sesame," they sit down to mourn their ill luck.. 
Their utter stupidness keeps them from seeing the 
key in the lock that they can turn and which, if 
turned, would open. Dr. Johnson, who came up to 
London with a single guinea in his pocket, and who 
once accurately described himself in his signature to 
a letter addressed to a noble lord, as Impransus, or 
Dinnerless, has honestly said: "All the complaints 
which are made of the world are unjust: I never 
knew a man of merit neglected ; it was generally 
his own fault that he failed of success." 

Washington Irving held like views. "As for the 
talk," said he, " about modest merit being neglected, it 
is too often a cant, by which indolent and irresolute 
men seek to lay their want of success at the door 
of the public. Modest merit is, however, too apt to 
be inactive or negligent, or uninstructed merit. 
Well-matured and well-disciplined talent is always 
sure of a market, provided it exerts itself; but it 
must not cower at home and expect to be sought 
for. There is a good deal of cant, too, about the 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 251 

success of forward and impudent men, while men of 
retiring worth are passed over with heglect. But it 
usually happens that those forward men have that 
valuable quality of promptness and activity without 
which worth is a mere inoperative property. A 
barking dog is often more useful than a sleeping lion." 

A large proportion of the eminent men of every 
period would have risen to their eminence if their 
circumstances had been wholly different. Thus, to 
take a strong case, it is impossible that any com- 
bination of circumstances could have repressed 
Christopher Columbus to the level of undistin- 
guished mediocrity. As Galton says, "If a man is 
gifted with vast intellectual power, eagerness to work 
and power of working, I can not comprehend how 
such a man should be repressed. The world is 
always tormented with difficulties waiting to be 
solved, struggling with ideas and feelings to which it 
can give no adequate expression. If, then, there 
exists a man capable of solving those difficulties, or 
of giving a voice to those pent-up feelings, he is 
sure to be welcomed with universal acclamation. 
We may almost say that he has only to put his pen 
to paper and the thing is done." 

Henry Clay, Andrew Johnson, Webster and Van- 
derbilt, are all men that would have risen to eminence 
in. any nation and under any surroundings — they 
not only possessed working power, but they had 
driving capacity. It was this driving capacity that 
carried them to prominence, and the working power 
sustained them there. 



252 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

There are many men of vast possibilities whittling 
their lives away at some mediocre pursuit because 
they have no driving power — no pluck. Fortune 
knocks at them, sometimes until she nearly knocks 
their heads off, before they will see their " tide " has 
come. George Washington, John Quincy Adams 
and General Grant were men who would have lived 
and died with all their forces pent up in " Utica," if 
circumstances had not fortunately opened the way 
and pressed them into action. Luckily, when these 
slumbering giants are once aroused, they no longer 
suffer for want of spirit. Daring and pertinacity at 
once go to the. front and take charge of the man. 

Present ill luck sometimes proves to be the very 
best of luck in the end. England's greatest general, 
Wellington, came near being a revenue clerk. Dis- 
satisfied with the slowness of his promotion, he 
passed from infantry to cavalry service twice and 
back again, without advancement. He then applied 
for a position in the Revenue Office, but to no avail. 
Although disheartened, he was too plucky to leave 
the service and do nothing. He next flung himself 
into the campaign in Flanders, determined to merit 
promotion. Ten years afterward, we find him leading 
seven thousand Sepoys and British against thirty 
thousand Mahrattas, and winning a brilliant victory. 
From that time forward, he made circumstances. 

The very shrewdest financiers occasionally lose 
money in a venture ; the most copious orators are 
sometimes dumb ; the best sea-captains have lost 
vessels ; the ablest generals have lost battles ; and 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 253 

every successful man can point to many failures. 
But the one that can sustain a defeat, and come out 
of the disaster in a better condition than he went 
into the fight, is sure of promotion. General Sigel 
seldom won a battle, but when he was forced to 
retreat, woe befell the victorious enemy that pursued 
him. Some men never get their harness on until the 
day is lost; then, like Bonaparte, they look at the sun, 
and if there is enough daylight left, they will rewin 
the battle, and make believe that they only lost 
it in order to gain a greater victory. " In one 
respect," said the Admiral Coligni, " I may claim 
superiority over Alexander, over Scipio, over Caesar. 
They won great battles, it is true ; I have lost four 
great battles, and yet I show to the enemy a more 
formidable front than ever." 

No great work has ever been accomplished purely 
by fortune. There has been a purpose of life toward 
which the actor has addressed his thoughts and 
preparations ; and this very preparation enabled him 
to take advantage of all the favorable circumstances 
that fell in his way. Are not such men worthy of 
luck ? A life without a thought will never be favored by 
fortune. "An aimless life," says a recent author, " can 
scarcely be other than a comparatively useless one. 
There are thousands of men who have failed of the 
purposes of life, not because they were vicious, not 
because they became criminal, not because they were 
not clever in many respects, but because there was 
nothing toward which they aimed. There are many 
men who are very genial and companionable, who say 



254 SUCCESS IJ¥ LIFE. 

many things that are worth one's hearing, and do 
many things that are creditable, but who, after all, 
never prosper. They go through life always exciting 
wonder among men that there should be so much in 
a man, and that he should come to so little. Their 
life is like a harness, all the parts of which have been 
unbuckled from their fellows, and which are so many 
separate straps heaped up in a room. Unless they 
be put together and placed on the horse, he can not 
draw. There are multitudes of men who were never 
harnessed in their life. They are bearing nothing. 
They are aiming in no direction. They are running 
around in circles of transient thought and feeling. 
They are changing their purposes continually; they 
are never doing much, and are never doing it very 
well. The only thing which they accomplish effect- 
ually is at length dying; and let us hope that they 
will have a better chance, and that they will reap the 
advantage of their experience in the other life." 

No one can have success who despises trifles. 
"If a straw," says Dryden, "can be made the instru- 
ment of happiness, he is a wise man who does not 
despise it." The atomic theory is the true one. The 
universe is but an infinite attrition of particles. The 
grandest whole is resolvable into fractions; or, as 
the ditty has it — 

" Little drops of water, little grains of sand, 
Make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land." 

A gnat can drive an elephant mad. The corals can 
founder a navy. So in most lives, it is not some 



LUCK AJSfB PLUCK, 255 

colossal rhino-, but the turning of a straw that drives 
the engines forward or backward. When we see that 
Madame Galvani discovered galvanism by observing 
the result of an electric spark accidentally dropped 
on a dead frogf; that Arrand's lamp was discovered 
by the chance holding oi a tube over a candle; that 
"a Whig ministry was hurled from power in England 
by the spiking of some water on a lady's gown;'' that 
Franklin's whole destiny was altered by the accident 
of a tattered copy of Cotton Mather's "Essays to do 
Good:" that Sir John Moore passed, by the narrow 
channel of a few careless stanzas,, penned by an 
ordinary Irish parson, from the shores of oblivion to 
the isles oi immortality; that the pain produced 
by a thistle warned the Scotch army of the approach 
of the Danes : that the cackle of a goose saved Rome 
from the Gauls ; that flies attacking a congress of 
statesmen below their knee breeches hastened the 
signing of the Declaration which gave birth to our 
own mighty republic — we learn that little things, in 
some nice situations turn the scale of fate. 

Some eminent men have persistently asserted that 
there is no such thing as luck, that men are at all 
times the arbiters of their own fortunes, and that if 
an unkind fate overtakes them it is because of their 
imprudence and carelessness. A critical observer 
has written: "If a man will put his mind unto his 
business and drive it with energy, bad luck will 
never overtake him." Great men never despise small 
things. Michael Angelo was one day explaining to a 
visitor at his studio what he had been doing since his 



256 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

last visit : " I have retouched this part, polished that, 
softened this feature, brought out that muscle, 
given some expression to this lip, and more energy 
to that limb." " But these are trifles," remarked the 
visitor. "It may be so," replied the sculptor, "but 
recollect that trifles make perfection, and perfec- 
tion is no trifle." 

Many of the most distinguished names in the 
world's history were nearly half a century in attracting 
the admiring notice of mankind ; as witness Cromwell 
and Cavour, and Bismarck and Palmerston, and the 
elder Beecher. But their star will never die; their 
works, their influence on the age in which they lived, 
will be perpetuated to remote generations. This 
should be encouragement to all the plodders, for their 
time may come. 

In the battle of life we maybe drawn as conscripts, 
but our courage or our cowardice depends on our- 
selves. To be a conscript is no invidious thing if 
circumstances have cast us there ; but not to do our 
duty is shame any where. Every man is placed in 
some degree under the influence of events and of 
other men ; but it is for him to decide whether he 
will rule or be ruled by them. But they will rarely 
overwhelm him if he put up a stout and manful 
resistance. Duty was the one word which rang in 
Wellington's ear, and, following its lead with the 
pluck and persistence of an iron man, he overcame 
every difficulty, and became the conqueror of Bona- 
parte. Hannibal fought Rome no more desperately 
as general than he would have done as private. It 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 257 

was this spirit that made Nelson write when he was 
about to take charge of the finest fleet in the world, 
"The Admiralty may order me a cock-boat, but I will 
do my duty." " Captain Miller," said Scott at Lundy's 
Lane, " can you take that battery ?" " Pll try, Sir" was 
the answer. And the gallant Lawrence cried, with 
indomitable pluck, " Don't give up the ship !" almost 
with his latest breath. It is next to impossible for 
this kind of a spirit to fail in the end. These are the 
men who make out of themselves a greater circum- 
stance than any they meet. 

Fortune stood against Girard, Astor and Gray, but 
whether the crops were plentiful or failed, whether 
flood or drought, whether flush or bankrupt times, 
if they could not control events, they trimmed their 
sails to suit them, and so benefited by every circum- 
stance. They filled their bins out of the field where 
other men garnered nothing, and died worth millions. 
Washington, Cyrus and Caesar knew how to organize 
victory out of defeat, and hence always forced circum- 
stances to bless them. It was the same kind of a 
hand that carved the Venus de Medici, painted the 
Last Supper, and wrote the ^Eneid, Paradise Lost, 
and Festus. Morse obtained his telegraph, Fulton 
his steamboat, and Franklin his lightning by being 
greater than circumstances. The men who have 
gained true success in any department of life have 
not been men who placed any great reliance on luck. 
They never believed that the world owed them a 
living ; rather, they believed that they owed the 
world something, and must quickly be about paying 
17 



258 * SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

it. While men are the sport of circumstances one 
time in ten, nine times in ten circumstances are but 
clay in their hands out of which they can mold their 
life to wealth and honor if they will. 

Henry Ward Beecher once hit off this thought in 
the following terse and vigorous style : 

" Do not expect a legacy. Do not expect a division 
of your father's estate. Be honorable; be manly; 
cultivate a spirit of independence ; be proud that 
you are working out your own fortune. There is a 
pride which is ignominious, and there is a pride 
which is honorable. I love to hear a man say, and I 
honor a man who says, standing respected and strong 
in life, ' I am not indebted to fortune for my property. 
I earned it by the sweat of my brow. I baptized 
every dollar of it.' Money so consecrated by honest 
work usually stays by a man — and it usually has a 
man to stay by. 

" Rely on yourselves ; do not rely on luck. ' But 
do you believe in luck?' Oh yes, I believe in it — 
of course I do. 'Well, then, why not rely upon it?' 
He that had a good father and mother, had good 
luck. He whose father and mother whipped him 
enough, had good luck. He whose father and mother 
would not let him have his own way in his lower 
faculties, and compelled him to use his higher ones, 
had good luck. He who has a good appetite and 
good digestion has good luck. He who rises early 
and toils late, and never thinks of any thing except 
that which belongs to him, and which he has fairly 
earned, has good luck. The man who does not quar- 



LUCK AND PLUCK 959 

rel has rood luck. The man who bv his kindness 
makes every body about him like him, has good luck. 
Good faculties with eood habits induced on them are 
eood luck. This is the kind of p~ood luck for a man 
to seek after. I never knew a man that wanted to 
shirk all through life that had good luck. I have 
known men who were lazy and tattered, and drove 
their cow to pasture in the morning (not being much 
more intelligent than she), and shuffled back again, 
wishing the dew was not so wet, and wishing they 
could find a quarter of a dollar, which they never did 
find — except one man that I know of who found 
what he thought was a quarter, and turned it in his 
hand, and, seeing that it was an old Spanish eighteen- 
and-three-quarter-cent piece, said, ' If any body else 
had found this, it would have been twenty-five cents!' 
I have known shiftless men who were forever huntingf 
for good luck, but who never found it. Luck is in 
vigror. Luck is in courage. Luck is in o~ood hard 
sense. Luck is in work. Do not trust to any other 
luck than this. The fool's luck, lottery luck, good- 
fortune luck, superstitious luck — do not trust to that. 
If there is any luck, it is in the heart, in the head, in 
the hand." 

However much a man may ascribe his failures to 
luck, it always comes poorly off when he is successful. 
The one that talks the most about his bad luck is 
silent as the tomb about orood luck. For everv dollar 
made, every good work accomplished, every triumph 
achieved in business, we find a cause in our own 
merit. In a lordlv sort of way we blink out the whole 



260 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

potency of luck, and say, "All the glory be unto 
us." Even if shown that we were the sport of circum- 
stances in the beginning, we will never stop until we 
convince others that it was our wisdom that enabled 
us to grapple with the opportunity, and our well- 
directed labors alone that could forge destiny out of 
such small materials. 

Louis Napoleon was the " luckiest" man that ever 
lived. Good and bad luck followed him hand in hand 
through his whole career. He was torn an illegitimate 
child, and had a king to father him. He began at 
Strasburg an effort to overthrow the French govern- 
ment, which proved abortive and covered him with 
ridicule; whereupon he turned his attention to 
philosophy and gained esteem by his writings. 
Upon the overthrow of Louis Philippe, he was 
elected a member of the Constituent Assembly from 
four different departments. The lameness of his first 
speech provoked Thiers to call him tete de debris — a 
wooden head, and Victor Hugo, in lofty scorn, dubbed 
him Napoleon the Little. Nevertheless he was 
elected President of the republic, a few months later, 
by four million majority. The Assembly undertook 
to wrest the power of the state from his hand; he 
overthrew it, cast its members into prison, and 
appealed to the people ; they confirmed his acts, and 
extended his presidency ten years by a majority of 
six million votes. The people had revolted and bled 
for republicanism, and were prepared to die rather 
than have a monarchy. Yet on the 21st and 2 2d of 
November, 1852, they declared him "hereditary 



LUCK AND PLUCK. 261 

Emperor of the French, by the grace of God and by 
the will of the nation" — by a vote of eight million 
to a few thousand. Condemned by all the world, his 
reign was the most brilliant France ever knew. Exiled 
to England once more, he died at Chiselhurst, 
honored by potentates and powers, while France 
was bleeding from intestine strife. His life affords 
an enlarged view of what occurs to every man. For 
no doubt, as Byron said, sometimes 

" Men are the sport of circumstances, when 
The circumstances seem the sport of men." 

While Napoleon was tossed on the capricious waves 
of French favor, and on several occasions bowed his 
head to the fury of passing storms, yet, as a whole, 
he outgeneraled misfortune, and by his indomitable 
pluck stamped himself on France the most eminent 
success of the nineteenth century. 

Whatever else may be said of luck, there is never 
any bad luck in kindness. The oily tongue and 
personal magnetism of Marlborough could smooth 
grim-visaged war in the person of Charles XII of 
Sweden and turn his warrior-heart from the humbling 
of a nation. Sir Walter Raleigh flung his laced 
jacket into a puddle, and won a proud queen's favor. 
Napoleon III never forgave an enemy, yet he taxed 
the Empire that he might provide for those who 
treated him civilly during his exile and penury. " It 
is said that the celebrated miser, Jack Elwes, to save 
butchers' bills, made a point of eating his own sheep 
from head to tail, even though the mutton almost 



262 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

crawled off the plate before it was consumed. And 
yet the same sordid being gave hundreds to advance 
the interests of an officer whose manners had pleased 
him in a few casual interviews ; thus showing that, 
when all else had failed, the oiled key of courtesy 
could force back the rusty wards even of the miser's 
double-locked heart." 

A word of kind encouragement is oftentimes worth 
more to a young man than a fortune of twenty 
thousand dollars. The sympathizing counsel of 
William Makepeace Thackeray gave hope and nerve, 
and finally led on to fortune, more young men than 
the money of any Croesus has ever done. The wealth 
of Astor or Stewart could not have helped and 
encouraged an enslaved race on the road to liberty 
as the burning words of William Lloyd Garrison did. 
Alexander owed more of his success to his tutor and 
friend Aristotle than to the crown of Philip. Harriet 
Martineau was made an authoress by one encouraging 
sentence from her brother. 

Neglect of duty in some way is the most fruitful 
source of ill luck. Bonaparte lost Waterloo and his 
prestige forever by his causeless delays and careless- 
ness in directing his lines of attack. Sheridan, with 
the income of a prince, was always in terror of duns, 
through his silly expenditures. Coleridge, with brains 
enough to stock a thousand men, thoughtlessly frit- 
tered away his genius, as Lamb wittily said, '"on 
forty thousand fragments," and left nothing to pos= 
terity but his debts and his rubbish. 

That man is to be pitied who is too cowardly to 



LUCE AND PLUCK. 263 

go out and do battle for an honest living in the field 
of human exertion. He will never have good luck. 
He lost luck when he lost his pluck. Good pluck is 
good luck. It is bad luck not to have a definite aim 
in life. It is bad luck to feel above your business. 
It is bad luck to be ashamed of your poverty. It is 
bad luck to indulge in high living, or idleness, or dis- 
honesty,, or brawls, or expect a dollar or an honor 
that you do not fairly earn. It is bad luck for any 
young man to drink liquor, and eat tobacco, and 
smoke, and swear, and visit soda fountains, and cream 
saloons, and theaters, and brothels, and chase after the 
fashions, and fret and scold, and abuse people, anfl 
run other people's business and neglect his own. It 
is pluck which weaves the web of life and turns the 
wheel of fortune. It is pluck that amasses wealth, 
crowns men with honors, and forges the links of life. 




Business f^afcits 



" Order is heaven's first law." 

Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand 
before kings. — Solomon. 

Duty by habit is to pleasure turn'd ; 
He is content who to obey has learn 'd. 

— Sir S. E. Brydges. 

Show me thy faith without thy works and I will show thee 
my faith by my works. — James. 




264 



CHAPTER XI. 



BUSINESS HABITS. 




HEN we take hold of habits to discuss them, 
we enter upon a field of thought that chal- 
lenges a rounded and full survey. We can not limit 
ourselves to the mere mechanism and automatism of 
man, much as they have to do with creating this tyran- 
nical master — Habit. Two kinds of forces operate 
the affairs of this life — moral and physical. One 
kind is as real as the other, although the best thinkers 
have not succeeded in demonstrating the fact. It is 
hard, say the people, to take hold of invisible things, 
as though moral force were invisible. Give us some- 
thing tangible and practical, say they, and we will 
embrace it. They can discern a Great Eastern plow- 
ing its bulky way through the main, laden down to 
the guards with cargo, and they can appreciate this. 
But if a Spurgeon set his sail to the breezes of truth, 
that he may bear the burden of London's sins away, 
and if thousands on thousands of weary people are 
thereby relieved and refreshed, they affect not to dis- 
cover any utility in such a force. 

Now, the question is, Can the habits of men, as 

265 



266 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

influencing their business, be satisfactorily analyzed 
without reference to such things, for example, as 
honor and integrity? If a man ignore and scout 
them, denying verbal contracts because there were no 
witnesses by, or evading prompt payments by taking 
advantage of some slight technicality in law, — 
if a man do thus, will he thrive and last on the 
street ? 

Deeper down in the business character lie the 
moral faculties, essential to and inseparable from it. 
In illustration we call attention to some informa- 
tion respecting the social and political condition of 
the Dutch recently sent to this country by our 
minister at the Hague. He says there has not been 
a bank failure in Holland during the last forty years, 
and that the paper money of the banks during that 
time has been equal to gold. There is no such thing 
as the failure of a fire-insurance company on record, 
and while the rate of insurance does not average 
more than a half of one per cent, the companies are 
in the most flourishing condition, realizing twelve to 
sixteen per cent, per annum. First-class railroad 
travel is only one cent per mile, and yet the roads pay 
good dividends. Pilfering officials are scarcely ever 
heard of, and when they shock the nation by turning 
up they are severely punished and forever disgraced. 
Dishonesty of any kind or failure in business means 
public dishonor, and utterly bars the dishonest from 
any future public consideration. Four millions of 
people live within an area of twenty-nine thousand 
square miles, and all appear to be happy, prosperous 



BUSINESS HABITS. 267 

and contented. The secret of this prosperity lies in 
the fact that all live within their incomes, and that 
industry and honesty are principles firmly established 
in the national character. 

Whether we rank habit among the moral powers 
or not, its influence remains the same. There are 
times in the life of every man when fate seems to 
thrust almost overwhelming burdens upon him, and 
nothing but the sustaining power of habit, gathered 
through long years of continuance in well doing, can 
save him from being utterly crushed. And yet the 
action, on his part, is neither premeditated nor volun- 
tary. It comes up, prompt to time, like Bluchers corps 
at Waterloo, and saves the day. The habit of talking 
about nothing but religion saved John Wesley's relig- 
ious reputation to posterity ; for if he had ever stopped 
to quarrel with that Xantippe of a wife, or reply to 
his slanderers, he would have fallen. Who has not 
seen men perform certain good deeds by sheer force 
of habit, and felt at the time there was no praise 
deserved? The constant repetition of the thing had 
developed a habit which became second nature. The 
habit of looking toward the right precluded them 
from seeing the wrong. It would have created a jar 
and a pain had it been resisted. Observing this, some 
one has felt constrained to say, " All is habit in man- 
kind, even virtue itself." The silken threads of smiles 
and gentle airs so wove themselves, by constant prac- 
tice, into the web of Chesterfield's character, that he 
sat in the House of Lords during a most malicious 
assault on his honor, unruffled as a day in June, par- 



268 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

rying the fiercest of invectives with the softest of 
words. 

But one frail wire was at first thrown across the 
Niagara, then another was added, and another, until 
the spider's web became a woven cable, and great 
loaded trains now pass in safety over the Suspension 
Bridge. " Like flakes of snow that fall unperceived 
upon the earth," says Jeremy Bentham, " the seemingly 
unimportant events of life succeed one another. As 
the snow gathers together, so are our habits formed; 
no single flake that is added to the pile produces a 
sensible change ; no single action creates, however it 
may exhibit, a man's character; but as the tempest 
hurls the avalanche down the mountain, and over- 
whelms the inhabitant and his habitation, so passion, 
acting upon the elements of mischief which pernicious 
habits have brought together by imperceptible accu- 
mulation, may overthrow the edifice of truth and 
virtue." 

There is value in steady accretions. Insects even 
know this, and from the bottom of the ocean to the 
surface, by the deposit of their little particles, rear 
the coral continent. One tick of the clock is an 
insignificant thing, but after a while it has ticked an 
hour into eternity, and still we think it small, but on 
the tireless little trifler ticks until its accumulated 
strokes toll us into eternity, and our hopes and aims 
are gone forever. 

Life is made up of little acts. As a man spends 
his moments, so will he spend his hours. The world 
judges of a great man by some great deed he has 



BUSINESS HABITS. 269 

done. The judgment is well founded. The great 
deed is only an armful of his little deeds. A lake is 
only a larger pond ; a mountain is only an enlarged 
hill ; a great deed is only a little one fully grown. 
In the majority of cases where men have attained 
success, it has been greatly owing to the cultivated 
habit of attention to little things. 

The success of a business man depends measurably 
on his habits. If he have good business habits, allied 
to average business abilities, then may he depend on 
realizing more than an average success. Many 
literary men have thought the business man was 
much like a blind horse on the tread-mill — he had 
only to walk on the beaten track, and let affairs take 
their natural course. Hazlitt, in his clever essay on 
" Thought and Action," regards a business life as a 
mere plodding affair, and the routine of business 
simply machine work. " The great requisite," he 
says, "for the prosperous management of ordinary 
business is the want of imagination, or of any ideas 
but those of custom and interest on the narrowest 
scale. Take what you can get, keep what you can 
get, seize eagerly every opportunity that offers for 
promoting your own interest, and make the most of 
the advantages you have already obtained, and, by 
plodding, persevering industry, you will become a 
first-class merchant." 

This is but a one-sided view. Of course, there are 
narrow-minded men in business, as there are in every 
pursuit. But it is an utterly low view of business 
which regards it as only a means of getting a living. 



270 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Every man ought to realize that he has a mission in 
life, and that his business is the channel by which he 
fulfills it. Any other view of business is selfish and 
degrading. Hazlitt himself refuted in practice the 
doctrine of his essay; for no man ever wrote more 
assiduously for a commercial consideration than 
William Hazlitt. 

Narrow men in every pursuit are numerous. But 
the great men in every pursuit are few. They 
may almost be counted on the fingers. The clerical 
profession boasts but few Augustines, Chrysostoms, 
Luthers, Calvins, Wesleys, and Campbells; the 
military but few Caesars, Bonapartes, and Grants; 
the diplomatic but few Talleyrands, Marlboroughs, 
and Bismarcks; the legal but few Cokes, Eldons, and 
Marshalls. As Burke said, "There are statesmen 
who act as peddlers, and merchants who act in the 
spirit of statesmen." There is opportunity in almost 
every pursuit for men to distinguish themselves, 
and consummate business men are as rare as great 
writers or statesmen. 

Among money getters there are but few Roths- 
childs, Grays, and Vanderbilts; among inventors but 
few Palissys, Morses, and Howes; among merchants 
but few Shillittos, Clafiins, and Stewarts; among 
farmers but few Kents, Strawns, and Greenes. Nature 
is a just mother, and all her industries are much 
nearer a level than the world commonly supposes. 
When did warrior, artist, or statesman ever exhibit 
greater research, concentration of aim and sagacity 
than Bernard Palissy in the production of glaze to 



BUSINESS HABITS. 271 

cover pottery? If we take into account the qualities 
necessary for the successful conduct of any impor- 
tant undertaking — that it requires special aptitude, 
decision of character, perseverance, often capacity 
for organizing the labors of large numbers of men, 
a profound knowledge of human nature, and the 
relation of activities and results — it is evident that 
business demands the essential elements of a success- 
ful life as much as the professions. 

When we see A. T. Stewart conducting a business 
that, near and remote, requires as vast an army of 
operatives as Bonaparte had soldiers at Austerlitz; 
taxing the producers of every clime ; on the war-path 
with ten thousand competitors scattered over the 
area of a continent: and then die serenely after 
accumulating fifty millions of dollars; or, when a 
Henry W. Smith brings "black Friday" to Wall 
street, a pale face to the Secretary of a nation's 
treasury, and makes the financial foundations of a 
republic quake, we are ready to conclude that there 
are colossal powers in men of business as well as in 
warriors and statesmen. 

The path of success in any calling is usually the 
path of common sense. Many of the most success- 
ful men in the professions have acquired habits of 
patient labor and application in their earlier days, 
when they stood by the forge or followed the plow. 
The old Greeks said, "To become an able man in any 
profession, three things are necessary — nature, study, 
and practice." These are the very tools that make a 
good business man. Was not Spinoza a polisher of 



272 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

glass; was not Chaucer a hardy soldier; was not 
Copernicus a baker; was not Linnaeus a leather 
pounder? These men, by their toilings, laid the 
foundations of character, on which, afterward, they 
reared their imperishable works. How it would goad 
a modern literalus to peddle oil like Plato or make 
tents like Paul to pay his current expenses! 

Books can never teach the use of books ; neither 
can the knowledge of a thing insure the practice of 
it. A man may write a vigorous essay on economy, 
as Sheridan did, and then follow him further in the 
squandering of half a dozen fortunes. A man may 
talk advisedly against the credit system, entreating all 
to avoid it like poison, and yet all the while be flee- 
ing from creditors like Jean Paul Richter. Many men 
are capable of giving wholesome advice ; few, in their 
own case, put it into execution. Many men can con- 
duct a business economically and profitably for 
others, but fail in every investment they make for 
themselves. 

William Pitt, without a family, spent an income of 
;£6,ooo a year, dying hopelessly in debt. The same 
man ruled England for a quarter of a century with 
less expense and more prosperously than any premier 
for a hundred years previous. Macaulay says "the 
character of Pitt would have stood higher if to the 
disinterestedness of Pericles and De Witt he had 
united their dignified frugality." These men who 
counsel and manage so wisely for others, but can 
never utilize their abilities in the conduct of their 
own affairs, form a numerous body. Carlyle wittily 



BUSINESS HABITS. 273 

observes that "they are obeying man's highest mission 
— spending themselves for the good of others." 

Sheridan was one of the wisest and wittiest of 
men. He stood on the vantage ground of genius 
and scholarship. Possessing an amazing facility for 
composition — dashing off " Pizarro" at one sitting 
in a club-room — he could with a stroke touch the 
apex of thought, tracing the subtlest metaphysician 
through all his dim and devious windings, exposing 
the fallacies of each Utopian schemer, or breaking 
the logician on the rack of some unforeseen dilemma. 
Yet this prodigy, in whom the powers of the mind 
seemed to work instinctively, when he came into 
the theater of daily business acted the very char- 
acter that he had made the butt of his ridicule. 

Mirabeau, the thunderer of the forum, whose 
political strategy and social wit were the envy and 
admiration of all France, could not contrive to earn 
his daily bread, and died indebted to the tailor for 
his wedding suit. Sterne did not reserve a penny 
for his old age, and was so miserably poor that, 
on dying, his friends passed a subscription to buy 
mourning dresses for his wife and daughter. Butler, 
the satirist of the seventeenth century, whose learn- 
ing, wit, and ingenious thought, as spoken by Sir 
Hudibras and his squire, Ralph, in that unrivaled 
poem, " Hudibras," died of starvation in Rose Alley. 
Beethoven's sonatas have ravished with delight the 
ears of all music lovers, yet he did not know enough 
to cut the coupon from a bond, to raise a little 
money, instead of selling the entire instrument. At 



274 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

times he was so straitened for means that he 
dined daily simply on a roll of bread and a glass 
of water ; at another time, when flush with money, 
he paid his tailor three hundred florins in advance, 
and sent a friend the same amount to buy him some 
shirts and a half-dozen pocket-handkerchiefs. The 
brilliant but dissolute Otway was hunted by bailiffs 
to his last hiding-place on Tower Hill. His last act 
was to beg a shilling of a gentleman, and buy a loaf 
to appease his hunger • he died, choked by the first 
mouthful. Savage, though his tragedies stamped 
him a genius, and his poems were written with a 
divine pathos, was kept from the almshouse a great 
portion of his life by the Crown and the contribu- 
tions of Pope. He usually spent his annual pension 
of fifty pounds within five days after receiving it. 
Once during his time it was fashionable to wear 
scarlet cloaks trimmed with gold lace, and Johnson 
met him one day just after he had got his pension, 
with one of these gorgeous affairs on his back, while 
at the same time his naked toes were sticking out 
through his shoes. He finally died in prison, lying 
under a debt of £%. 

And what was the pivot on which the lives of all 
these men swung over into disaster? It was their 
indisposition to seize and keep in hand the daily 
business that belongs to all. Johnson, in concluding 
his " Life of Savage," very tersely observes : " This 
relation will not be wholly without its use if those 
who, in confidence of superior capacities or attain- 
ments disregard the common maxims of life, shall 



BUSINESS HABITS. 275 

be reminded that nothing will supply the want of 
prudence, and that negligence and irregularity, long 
continued, will make knowledge useless, wit ridicu- 
lous, and genius contemptible." 

Montaigne, in one of his essays, speaking of true 
philosophers, says: "If they were great in science, 
they were yet much greater in action ; . . . and 
whenever they have been put upon the proof, they 
have been seen to fly to so high a pitch, as made 
it very well appear their souls were strangely elevated 
and enriched with the knowledge of things." This 
keen and discriminating thought on the properly- 
developed man he illustrates by a passage in the life 
his favorite, Thales: "Thales, once, inveighing in 
discourse against the pains and care men put them- 
selves to to become rich, was answered by one in the 
company ' that he did like the fox, who found fault 
with what he could not obtain.' Thereupon Thales 
had a mind, for the jest's sake, to show them the 
contrary ; and having upon this occasion for once 
made a muster of all his wits, wholly to employ them 
in the service of profit, he set a traffic on foot, which 
in one year brought him in so great riches that the 
most experienced in that trade could hardly in their 
whole lives, with all their industry, have raked so 
much together." 

The man who is a giant in the closet and a child 
in the world will find his half-developed self at a 
strange disadvantage with the things that make for 
success in the world. The great fault lies in the fact 
that the culture has been bestowed disproportion- 



276 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

ately. Such persons may have been drilled in the 
text books, but have never been marshaled on the 
field. They have been taught that devotion to 
imaginative and philosophical literature, with single- 
ness of heart, would very soon bring the world under 
their chariot wheels. They have given themselves 
up wholly to vigorous thinking. Life also demands 
vigorous acting. 

Culture properly bestowed does not make hobby- 
ists. It makes live, real, ready men. It endows them 
with tact to take hold of the vital questions of life 
and solve them profitably; discipline, by which each 
thought and act is jointly trained to reach one 
common end ; together with such knowledge as they 
must avail themselves of if they would treat with 
the world hopefully, intending to win. Polish and 
aesthetics are poor things to buy bread with. A 
man will be perpetually in the breach unless he has 
sense enough to wall it up. Let our poets and our 
preachers, our artists and our astronomers, our 
lawyers and our physicians, our professors and our 
philosophers bestow more time on material matters 
and less on ethereal; and let our schools and col- 
leges remember to make men — stalwart, invincible 
men — men who are neither to be tripped up by the 
tricks of fortune nor trodden down by the heel of 
rivalry. 

We are glad to know that all professional men are 
not business failures. Jefferson could either draft 
"The Declaration" or manage a plantation. Theo- 
dore Parker was one of the best ax-men in his 



BUSINESS HABITS. 277 

region. Alexander Campbell could translate the 
Testament, debate theological problems, endow and 
carry on a college, and manage successfully half a 
dozen farms. Evarts manages a farm and the 
nation's business besides, not finding his superabun- 
dant lore any hindrance. Beecher is equally at 
home with men, machinery, literature, theology, 
politics, flowers and farming. Thiers was orator, 
philosopher, historian and statesman. Lamb was 
one of the cleverest clerks in the India House. 
Calvin controlled the municipality of Geneva. 




CHAPTER XII. 



BUSINESS HABITS. 



[continued.] 




T is perhaps needless to dwell at length on 
the necessity of concentration of aim. Of the 
men who have come to distinction, the great multi- 
tude have wrought with but one thought in the 
mind. Few men have lived who were able to accom- 
plish two great intentions. Some one has said that 
a good business man ought not to be able to appre- 
ciate a joke unless it has a business point in it. He 
must love his business so devotedly that he has a 
keener appreciation for things connected with it than 
for any thing else. A man can not succeed without 
bringing his whole mind, soul and strength to the 
altar of his calling. He must love it as a whole, and 
its drudgery and details, with a passion amounting 
to enthusiasm. A yell and a dash have won a battle 
when all-day cannonades have done nothing but 
raise the dust. 

It has been remarked that the difference between 
an ordinary mind and the mind of Newton consists 

principally in this, that the one is capable of more 

278 



BUSINESS HABITS. 279 

continuous attention than the other — that a Newton 
is able, without fatigue, to connect inference with 
inference in one long series toward a determined 
end ; while the man of inferior capacity is soon 
obliged to break or let fall the thread which he 
has begun to spin. . . . Nay, genius itself, says 
Helvetius, "is nothing but a higher power of atten- 
tion." " In the exact sciences, at least," says Cuvier, 
"it is the patience of sound intellect, when invin- 
cible, which truly constitutes genius." And Chester- 
field has also observed that " the power of applying 
an attention undeviatingly to a single object, is the 
sure mark of a superior genius." 

A patient concentration of attention to one sub- 
ject is then recognized as of prime importance to 
successful work. The ability to concentrate the 
thoughts and energies is to a degree natural. But 
every man possessed of will power can, by continued 
effort, attain such singleness of action that he 
becomes oblivious of all else. It is said that Lord 
Palmerston was naturally dissipated in thought. 
But by giving himself resolutely to one thing at a 
time, he so far overcame his native tendencies that 
oneness of thought and aim became his leading 
characteristic. He would take his seat in his car- 
riage for a ride, and having some topic laid aside 
for this occasion, would at once marshal his forces 
for the onset. The carriage would whirl by the 
noble dukes and lords, but he saw them not ; roll 
through Grosvenor Square, but he knew it not ; take 
a spin through the West End, but he recognized 



280 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

it not ; draw up before his own door with a jerk, 
but his thoughts were elsewhere. The driver would 
open the door, and say, "Home, my Lord." Palm- 
erston would wake up and step out, saying, " Had 
a nice ride, didn't we, Tom ? " 

It is said a Yankee can splice a rope in many 
different ways ; an English sailor knows but one 
mode, but that mode is the best. The English are 
noted for singleness of purpose, hence whatever an 
Englishman does he does well. But the average 
American imagines himself a failure unless he 
has a half-dozen irons in the fire; hence he is 
too frequently Jack -of- all -trades and good for 
none. 

Mental dissipation is ruining our literary men, 
and business dissipation is bankrupting our business 
men. The half-hearted, half-decided, double-aimed 
men never win the victories. Old Dr. Alexander 
used to say to the young preachers, " Many minis- 
ters are enthusiastic about other things, such as art, 
poetry, authorship, politics; but their Sabbath ser- 
mon is like a sponge from which all the moisture 
is squeezed out. Live for your sermon — live in 
your sermon. Get some starling to cry, sermon, 
sermon, sermon? 

Whatever your calling, say with Paul, "This one 
thing I do." Then take the advice of Solomon: 
"Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with 
thy might." You can not afford to dawdle away a 
moment of time. Know your business in all its 
details. Marry it. Take it with you wherever 



BUSINESS HABITS. 281 

you go, and your devotion will tell on the profit 
side of the ledger. 

The faculty of self -control is a virtue in the 
business man. The man who resists impulses and 
controls himself is more than an animal. He drills 
his desires, and keeps them in subjection to the 
higher powers of his nature. He that ruleth his 
own spirit is mightier than he that taketh a city. 
Herbert Spencer, in his Social Statics, says: "In 
the supremacy of self-control consists one of the 
perfections of the ideal man. Not to be impulsive 
— not to be spurned hither and thither by each 
desire that in turn comes uppermost — but to be 
self-restrained, self-balanced, governed by the joint 
decisions of the feelings in council assembled, before 
whom every action shall have been fully debated 
and calmly determined — that it is which education, 
moral education at least, strives to produce." The 
home, the seminary, and the world, are the graded 
schools in which this valiant virtue is trained. 
Purity of mind, serenity of temperament, and judi- 
cious speech, become habitual and are built into 
the nature by careful self- discipline. 

The best support of self-control is in habit. We 
are the willing subjects or we become the servile 
slaves of habit. As we control ourselves in the 
formative stages of our character, so does habit 
prove a benignant ruler or a cruel despot. Some 
one said, "eloquence was the quality most needed 
in a prime minister;" another said it was "knowl- 
edge;" and a third said it was "wit." Mr. Pitt, 



282 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

listening to the conversation, said, " No, it is 
patience." Patience is often regarded as a slow 
virtue, but in William Pitt it crowded competitors 
like a winning race horse. Earl Stanhope says he 
one day found Mr. Christmas, Pitt's private secre- 
tary, over head and ears in court papers and 
suffering constant interruptions without the least 
ruffle of temper. He could not forego his desire 
to learn the secret of such equanimity. " Well, you 
shall know it," Mr. Christmas replied, " Mr. Pitt 
gave it to me: Not to lose my temper, if possible, 
at any time, and never during the hours of busi- 
ness. My labors here commence at nine and end 
at three ; and, acting on the advice of the illustrious 
statesman, / never lose my temper during those 
hours? 

Vehement passions are evidences of power going 
to waste — steam rushing out through the safety- 
valve for want of proper and useful employment. 
Scores of men fritter and fume away half their force. 
Bonaparte and Wellington were irritable in the 
extreme, and all their passions were of a fierce 
order. But they began a course of rigid self-contol 
in early life, and thus, turning the vital, force that 
would have been wasted in criminal expenditure on 
to their single aim, they controlled themselves, 
thereby controlled others, and were thus driven on 
to their great achievements. 

Was not Luther so irritable when a child that the 
family could never please him ? Was not the chief 
characteristic of the saintly Barrow punching 1 the 



BUSINESS HABITS. 283 

other boys under the eyes ? Was not Wesley a 
most inconsiderate boy? And did not the boy 
Caesar keep the family forever in a row, so that 
they sent him off to school to get rid of him? Jared 
Sparks says that " Washington's temperament was 
ardent, his passions strong, and sometimes they 
broke out with vehemence; but he had the power 
of checking them in an instant. Perhaps self-control 
was the most remarkable trait of his character." By 
unwearied self-discipline did these men ultimately 
triumph over their passions, and create out of the 
saved force a crown for their manhood. Whenever 
Stephen Girard heard of a clerk with a strong 
temper, he would seek to employ him, setting him 
to work in a room by himself. He claimed that 
such persons were the best workers, and that their 
energy would expend itself in work if so controlled 
that it could not flow out any other way. 

Blessed is the man who has the habit of keeping 
things that ought not to be spoken. The man whose 
tongue, like Tennyson's brook, runs on and " on 
forever," will surely come to difficulty. A business 
man ought to be a conversationalist, but let him be 
a judicious one. Cromwell and Richelieu controlled 
the affairs of nations. They were excellent con- 
veners and always obeyed George Herbert's injunc- 
tion to "speak fitly or be silently wise." Rothschild 
is said to be an excellent talker, and tells an anecdote 
with as keen a relish as any man in the kingdom. 

The business man needs to exercise the same 
careful wording of his thoughts as does the diplomat; 



284 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

not such a foiler as Talleyrand, but an honest states- 
man like Seward. Marlborough's oily and gentle 
words never forsook him, whether at Blenheim with 
his own raging Sarah, or soothing the ravings of 
the exiled King. His flowing utterances were the 
same, whether entertaining potentates, selling gov- 
ernment patronage, buying an estate or dictating 
terms of peace to France. He spoke only soft 
sentences, but then the great organ minded its stops. 

It is related that DeLeon, who lay for years in 
the dungeons of the Inquisition, because of his 
having translated a part of the Scriptures into his 
native tongue, on being liberated and restored to 
his professorship, was followed to his first lecture 
by an immense crowd, craving some account of his 
imprisonment, but DeLeon was too wise to indulge 
in recrimination. He merely resumed the lecture 
which, five years before, had been so sadly inter- 
rupted, with the accustomed formula, " Heri dice- 
bamus," and went directly into his subject. 

Men who speak in haste are their own worst 
enemies. Like Michael Angelo, their own words 
become the swords that frighten away patronage, 
sever friendships, and finally loosen the floods of 
remorse that embitter all their life. Barry, the 
painter, quarreled furiously with his patrons, berated 
his customers for their lack of appreciation, and 
was involved in endless disputes with other artists. 
Edmund Burke, that generous friend of struggling 
merit, wrote to him : " Believe me, dear Barry, that 
the arms with which the ill dispositions of the world 



BUSINESS HABITS. 285 

are to be combated, and the qualities by which it is 
to be reconciled to us, and we reconciled to it, are 
moderation, gentleness, a little indulgence to others, 
and a great deal of distrust of ourselves ; which are 
not qualities of a mean spirit, as some may possibly 
think them, but virtues of a great and noble kind, 
and such as dignify our nature as much as they 
contribute to our repose and fortune; for nothing 
can be so unworthy of a well-composed soul as to 
pass away life in bickerings and litigations — in 
snarling and scuffling with every one about us. We 
must be at peace with our species, if not for their 
sakes, at least very much for our own." 

Cultivate, then, the "soft answer" that "turneth 
away wrath " and the pure words that foster chastity 
of life. Speak the truth with gentleness, for to speak 
crossly when one is endeavoring to promote his 
business, is like spoiling an excellent dish by cover- 
ing it with bad sauce. Burns says, wisely and well : 

"Reader, attend — whether thy soul 
Soars fancy's flight beyond the pole, 
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole 

In low pursuit ; 
Know prudent, cautious self-control 
Is Wisdom's root." 

The company a man keeps has much to do with 
his habits. Associates exercise a formative influence 
on his character. And, whatever his native dispo- 
sition may be, that trite old maxim," A man is known 
by the company he keeps," will assert its truth in the 
end. Germany had struggled in the throes of an 




286 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

incipient reformation before Luther came. He doffed 
his robes and went down to live with the people. 
Then it was that his voice rang like a trumpet 
throughout Germany, and every German became a 
stern reformer. 

Dr. Paley was for three years, at Cambridge, a 
spendthrift and idler. One morning, after a night's 
dissipation, an intimate friend stood by his bedside. 
" Paley," said he, " I have not been able to sleep for 
thinking of you. I have been thinking what a fool 
you are ! / have the means of dissipation, and can 
afford to be idle ; you are poor, and can not afford it. 
/ could do nothing, probably, even were I to try ; you 
are capable of doing any thing. If you persist in 
your indolence, and go on this way, I must renounce 
your society altogether." Paley afterward confessed 
that that talk altered his life. He formed new plans; 
he cultivated better habits, by the assistance of better 
companions. He left Christ's College the senior 
wrangler, and the world is acquainted with his great 
career. Old John Brown, of "marching -on" fame, 
once said to Emerson that, "for a settler in a new 
country, one good believing man is worth a hundred 
— nay, worth a thousand men without character." 
Chateaubriand said that one interview with Wash- 
ington warmed his heart for the rest of his days, and 
poured virtue into his soul. 

A business man can not afford the association of 
the idle and thriftless. The very men that spend their 
''off" hours and evenings lounging in your shops 



BUSINESS HABITS. 287 

are the good-natured fellows that are sowing the 
seeds of bankruptcy in your habits. 

" Thou art noble ; yet, I see, 
Thy honorable metal may be wrought 
From that it is disposed. Therefore 't is meet 
That noble minds keep ever with their likes : 
For who so firm, that can not be seduced ? 

Accuracy is essential to business success. Scien- 
tific men complain that they are often expected to 
deduce exact truths from inaccurate statements; 
preachers feel that class-meeting Christians are 
not always accurate in giving the details of their 
experience; lawyers worry and cross-question the 
witnesses to get "just the facts" in the case. Inac- 
curacy is a prevalent American failing. Americans 
are not liars, as the Chinese are ; but, as Linn would 
say, an American always leaves some of his origin- 
ality sticking to every thing he tells. This careless- 
ness is not confined to statement alone. There is 
a general looseness in the performance of all work. 
Where is the man that rounds every labor up to 
a perfect completion? Accuracy is vital to the 
scientist, and no less indispensable to the trader 
and mechanic. Whatever is worth doing at all is 
worth doing well. The exact business man has a 
golden virtue. The slovenly, slip-shod man loses 
at every turn, and never learns where the leak is. 

Exactness only comes by a willingness to go 
slow, and to go with an unrelaxing application. 
The accountant who has habituated himself aright 



288 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

will run a column of figures with a Babbage-like 
rapidity, and set the amount down with as much 
confidence as he would four under two and two. 
The clerk over at the other desk, who has not been 
trained to accuracy, will cast his column four times, 
and then stumble when he sets down his figures. 

Punctuality must be cultivated by every seeker 
after business success. This virtue, which is the 
politeness of kings, is essential in every calling, 
whether lofty or humble. A punctual man wins 
the confidence of all who have to do with him. A 
man whose name on the traders book is quoted 
for one thousand dollars, simply by meeting every 
bill promptly for two years, will have a cheerful 
credit at his wholesale house for five thousand 
dollars, although he may not have become worth 
a dollar more. 

The virtues of a business man are a large share 
of his capital. Business men look more after a 
customers habits than after his estate. They under- 
stand commerce to be self-regulating; that, if a 
trader complies with her laws, he will not be likely 
to fail; that, if he has honor, capacity and applica- 
tion, there is little need to ask after his wealth; 
if he possesses these, the laws of business make 
him trustworthy. Every year's trade yields him 
satisfactory results. No matter what his other 
virtues may be, if he lacks punctuality he is on the 
road to loss of confidence and ultimate failure. 
Want of punctuality saps the foundation of every 
good business habit, and all the redeeming virtues 



BUSINESS HABITS. 289 

of his character early fall into the train of the leading 
vice, and the man becomes a dawdler, Coleridge 
dawdled and failed. While Carthage hugged the 
delusion of her invincibility, Scipio destroyed her 
unrecruited army. And had Mark Antony acted 
with his usual promptness to duty, he would have 
kept out of Cleopatra's chamber, and the geography 
of nations would have been changed. 

A promise to perform a duty at a given hour is 
a bond on your honor. It is more than a matter 
of courtesy, it is a matter of conscience. Five 
minutes late on that appointment breaks one of the 
strands in the bond of confidence reposed in you; 
and with a thorough business man it will be diffi- 
cult ever to tie that strand again. Failing to meet 
an engagement promptly is no light thing. Men 
recognize it as an index of the character, and the 
fault must be quickly and well redeemed, or their 
lack of confidence will soon spread to what the 
women call dawdling. Your motto must be, Hoc 
age. Do instantly whatever is to be done, and 
take the hours of recreation after business, never 
before it. When a regiment is under march, the 
rear is often thrown into confusion because the 
front does not move steadily and without interrup- 
tion. It is the same with business. If that which 
is first in hand is not instantly, steadily, and regu- 
larly dispatched, other things accumulate behind, 
till affairs begin to press all at once, and no human 
brain can stand the confusion. 

Every young man starting in life should make 



290 SUCCESS IW LIFE. 

it a rule never to be ahead of or behind his busi- 
ness. Let him always keep abreast of it. A man 
by advertising, by seeking for trade, by executing 
every order precisely on time, may have business 
pour in on him until he is compelled to enlarge 
his operations or be overwhelmed. This is well. 
This is crowding your business. But never let the 
business crowd you. To be' behind with your 
engagements is much like arriving at the depot 
about as the train starts. One has a sorry time 
bustling around and getting aboard. In the crowded 
depot of engagements there is generally such a 
rush of the behind -time men that they get greatly 
in one another's way. 

Punctuality is in a great degree a matter of 
habit. If the beginner in business will make it 
one of the first objects of his acquisition, he will 
have acquired a power of performing his duties 
that the dilatory men will always be amazed at. A 
habit of tardiness will cause endless trouble and 
vexation. Tardiness, once well established by habit, 
becomes the most obstinate of vices to overcome. 
A tardy man always intends to be punctual, but 
some unforeseen thing comes pushing itself along, 
demanding just a moment's attention, until, in one 
way or another, he is always kept late, and, in the 
hands of his habit, he can not help it. 

Every successful man has a keen sense of the 
value of time. A man who is not the miser of a 
minute will never be great. Charles XII, of Sweden, 
would sooner have parted with a full corps of his 



BUSINESS HABITS. 291 

little army than have been deprived of his watch. 
He unsheathed his sword against Russia, whose 
generals never did know any thing about time, and, 
while the Great Bear was turning round, Charles 
put her allies to the sword, and proved himself in six 
weeks the most formidable warrior on the continent. 
To that hour he had been a dissipated prince. The 
author of "Getting On in the World" relates that 
Bonaparte's marshals, who had been invited to dine 
with him on a certain occasion, were ten minutes 
late. Rising to meet them, the Emperor, who began 
his dinner as the clock struck, and had finished, said: 
" Gentlemen, it is now past dinner, and we will 
immediately proceed to business," whereupon the 
marshals were obliged to spend the afternoon in 
planning a campaign on an empty stomach. It is 
said that the Persians lost the battle of Marathon 
through procrastination. They had sacked Eretria 
and carried off all its booty, and, having effected a 
successful landing on the plain of Marathon, took 
a holiday before further action. The one hundred 
and ten thousand Persians were dressed in all the 
tinsel of a Sardis festival. Miltiades saw, from the 
heights where he was encamped with his twelve 
thousand men, that Greece would be lost if not 
victorious that day. He sallied forth with his little 
host divided into three bodies, and, falling upon the 
Persians like a tempest of fire, routed the revelers, 
who fled to their ships and hastened from the 
country. 

Artists and literary men are not always able to 



292 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

control their time. Artists especially have their 
moods, when they must take their brush or never. 
But these men who work only by fits and starts 
have an engagement with Nature at such hours, 
and must meet her then, or lose forever the inspira- 
tion she is waiting to give them. Angelo, at such 
times, would work all night, wearing a taper in his 
cap, like a coal miner, to give him light. From 
such spasmodic efforts have come his masterpieces. 
Wagner, our present prince of music, writes only 
when the spell is on him. For the sublime works 
such men execute, the world is willing to let them 
break all the rules of accepted good habits ; but 
it is not permitted to common men to indulge in 
these freaks. To harbor them is to encourage a 
course of life that will never accomplish any valu- 
able work. 

Business men do not have to wait for inspiring 
moods. They are therefore expected to be at their 
posts on time ; and by obeying the call of duty 
they will soon be filled with love for their work, 
that will goad them on to their fullest activities. 
The man who is at his bench or desk during every 
minute of the business hours; who meets every 
engagement promptly; who meets every bill when 
due; that man will surely win confidence and 
custom. 

To the business habits just considered must be 
added method and dispatch. The man who acts in 
harmony with the above precepts is not likely to 
fail in method. He can not be in the full habit of 



BUSINESS HABITS. 293 

all these and be irnmethodical. Nevertheless, it is 
-well to study method. Cecil, that wonderful dis- 
patcher of business, says : " Method is like packing 
things in a box; a good packer will get in half as 
much again as a bad one." Mr. Spurgeon, that 
prodigious toiler, tells us : " Once all I knew was 
rolled together confusedly as chaos. But now I 
have a shelf for every thing, and all my knowledge 
is ticketed away, ready and unincumbered when I 
call for it." Without system he could not accom- 
plish a tithe of what he is now doing. Experts 
say that nine -tenths of the bankrupts keep their 
books and conduct their business without method. 
This age requires a vast amount of work from a 
man before it will permit him to use the word 
— Success. He, therefore, who would conquer 
colossal results must not spurn the stepping-stones 
of system. As well might the climber kick the 
rounds out of the ladder and persist that he could 
climb as rapidly by the spaces. 

But a man may possess all the other qualities 
and fail in dispatch. Confessedly it is not of so 
great importance to the operator as any of the 
other virtues named. Yet it is the crowning virtue 
of a business character. In this age, where there 
is such a rush and scramble for the honors, though 
a man possess every other business element, he 
will be distanced if he fail in this one. Many put 
through business with great speed and seemingly 
accomplish very much. After all it has failed to 
amount to a great deal. They have a certain kind 



294 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

of quickness that enables them to dispose of 
matters for the present, but nothing is rounded 
up and fully completed. 

Genuine dispatch turns off its work with ease; 
it never wastes any force in sudden spurts of effort ; 
it expedites business by systematic, trained, and 
skilled use of whatever is necessary, always striking 
at the right time and in the right place. It is 
never in a hurry, and yet it always has its job off 
the stocks in time. It is the result of experience, 
close observation, and much pains -taking. 

A habit once formed acts spontaneously. This 
is the great satisfaction in the formation of good 
business habits, A few years of assiduous training 
will serve to make the dull routine of business 
attractive ; all the train of duties will fall into line 
one after another, like soldiers at roll-call, and 
be taken up in readiness and ease, with scarce a 
thought. The very habits that are most difficult 
to acquire, through their obvious unpleasantness, will 
in the course of time fasten themselves so closely 
on to nature that they will be performed with the 
facility of instinct. 

It is well known that many who have reached 
the highest eminence in the law were disgusted 
with it at first. Lord Eldon, who turned to law 
under the lash of necessity, said that, having been 
obliged to sit and hear the long and dry arguments 
in the land cases of the realm, the task which was 
so burdensome at first became at last so entertain- 
ing that he preferred such a case to a seat at the 



BUSINESS HABITS. 295 

Lord Mayor's banquet. Did not speech-making, at 
first so offensive to Webster, become his greatest 
pleasure? Did not verse-making, so irksome to 
Cowper in his early years, become in time the very 
boon of his existence? Only in the joys of com- 
position was he able to clear away the cloud of 
melancholy that hung over his mind with such 
awful consequences. 

Habit, we conclude, has much to do with life. 
On a few habits, thoughtlessly formed, may hang all 
our subsequent destiny. Profoundly important is it 
that good habits be formed in early years. At that 
time, when the evil days are not, they are easily 
formed, and once established, they are a fortune of 
themselves. If you propose to reform and put on 
new habits at thirty, it will be necessary to add to 
your resolution courage, besides all the will-power 
you possess. However quiet the habit may have 
appeared up to this time, the introduction of a 
rival in the household is something like falling 
upon a lion. It can not be driven from its lair in 
one combat. By patient, steady, and persevering 
effort you may conquer. Habit once grafted into 
the nature does not simply bear its own fruit, but 
transfuses its spirit into the body, and colors all 
the fruit on the tree of life. 

Some scientists affirm that animal instinct is 
inherited experience. The Duke of Argyle has 
written an able essay to support the contrary, but 
is compelled to admit that the habits of the 
parents transmit a tendency to their offspring. The 



296 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

ruling habit of the life haunts the body after death. 
(Does it not attend the soul through the change- 
less eons?) Dr. Rainyer tells of a lady, a con- 
firmed snuff-taker, to whom, having suddenly died, 
the battery was applied, with faint hopes of resus- 
citating life. Her right hand fumbled for a moment 
at the dress belt, where she usually carried a snuff- 
pouch, and then flew to her nose, which she " tickled," 
sniffing in a startlingly natural manner; she then 
gave an heroic sneeze, opened her eyes, and smiled 
in a satisfied way. Then her disturbed features 
relaxed into their cold and marble form. 

Obtain all the information you can; add to this 
your own experience, and then, in your wisdom, 
select a "race of habits" which harmonize with your 
tastes and business, giving yourself wholly unto them. 
Paroxysms of attention will not secure results. 
Steadfastly and unalterably let the driver of method, 
concentration, punctuality, honesty, accuracy, sobriety, 
and dispatch, fall in precisely the same way in each 
repeated performance, and in a few years they will 
be so wedded to nature that their action will be 
pleasant and spontaneous; and the final outcome 
thereof will be a successful business man. 




Business Urutrgerg. 



" Any man who desires to succeed must not only be indus- 
trious : he must love to be a drudge." 

T is all men's office to speak patience 

To those that wring under the load of sorrow. 

— Much Ado About Nothing. 




298 



CHAPTER XIII 



BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 




H ! there be souls none understand ; 
Like clouds T they can not touch the land, 
Drive as they may by field or town. 

Then we look wise at this, and frown, 

And we cry, "Fool," and cry, "Take hold 

Of earth, and fashion gods of gold." 

Unanchored ships, they blow and blow, 

Sail to and fro, and then go down 

In unknown seas, that none shall know, 

Without one ripple of renown : 

Poor drifting dreamers, sailing by, 

They seem to only live to die. 

— The Ship in the Desert. 

These sea-blown souls are excellent subjects for 
poetic effusions; but this utilitarian age has little 
use for men who drift about rudderless, ignorant 
of their position and the bearings of their destined 
port. It demands men who are ready and apt 
to seize the helm of action. The excuse made for 
these men is that, having lofty conceptions, they live 
in a higher atmosphere than ours, and can hardly be 
measured by our rule. By what rule are they to 

29Q 



300 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

be measured ? That they have a constant reaching 
after something grand, no one will wish to dispute ; 
but they discover no chasm lying between concep- 
tion and achievement. They seem to know nothing 
of the means to be operated, from the time that 
desire forms until the coveted end is reached. They 
assume the end to be attainable in the next instant 
after its conception. 

When they descend to the drudgery of working 
out the scheme ; when the ignoble toil begins ; 
when the unending minutiae of interests must be 
operated without appreciable results; when compe- 
titions are to be met and overcome ; when trifles 
are to be dealt with like problems of life, and 
jackdaws are to be treated like princes; when 
common sense taps one on the shoulder, hinting 
that great results can never come out of such 
piddling ; when the enthusiasm is beginning to die 
away and the mind begins to realize that there is 
a distance between conception and attainment — 
then it is these soarers turn away disgusted with 
the concerns of earth. 

The knights of Utopia are of little practical 
worth in the engagements of life, Don Quixote 
thought he could make beautiful bird-cages and 
tooth -picks if his brain was not so full of other 
ideas. A scheme is useless, no matter how brilliant 
it may be, if it fails to operate. 

W. W. Linn tells an anecdote of Col. E. D. 
Baker, which, although it comes from the gamblers 
den, illustrates the rock on which his genius foun- 



BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 301 

dered, and on which so many others have gone 
down : " Senator Baker, at one time greatly given 
to gambling, had lost much money at a certain 
faro bank in San Francisco. He sought for weeks 
for a scheme by which he could break the bank. 
At last he conceived one that would do it, and put 
a cool million in his pocket. He grew so nervous 
in contemplation of the vast wealth he was to win, 
that it became evident he would not have the 
necessary self-control to manipulate the scheme. 
So he sought out a certain eminent lawyer, the 
lank, cool-headed Col. L., who, if necessary, could 
scuttle a ship or cut a throat, and never know a 
tremor. The Colonel saw 'millions in it.' They 
drew ten thousand dollars apiece, and started for 
the 'tiger.' 

" All night they played, and sometimes lost. All 
day they played, and sometimes won. The follow- 
ing evening they 'bucked' their last thousand, and 
the ferocious monster gulped it down, then sat and 
smiled serenely on the plucky but penniless plan- 
ners. As they pushed out into the dim lamp light 
of Bay Street, Baker said, ' Colonel, that was a 
splendid plan, and it was executed just right. 
Why didn't it win ? ' 'It was a most imposing 
plan/ replied the Colonel, ' why it didn't succeed I 
don't know, but I do know that we are two of the 
damnedest fools in San Francisco.'" 

Another class of men fail because they will not 
engage in the details which the execution of any 
important work demands. All the interests of life 



302 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

hang on petty circumstances. Life is made up of 
small things. It is hurtful to allow our ordinary 
occasions to be swallowed up by the extraordinary 
ones. If you were endeavoring to stock a fish 
pond, would you consent that the larger fish should 
devour the lesser ones? Does a stock- man who 
must preserve an annual growth suffer his small 
pigs to be trampled to death by the cattle ? 

We are often ignorant of the events we think 
we understand. What seem to us small things are 
the hinges on which our mightiest movements turn. 
The size of any thing is no index of its impor- 
tance. It is the place it fills as a link in a chain 
of circumstances, or a wall of works, that gives it 
its value. A pigeon's wing is a small and light 
affair, looked at by itself; but when it outstrips a 
locomotive in bearing a death-message to a friend, 
it becomes significant. 

All successful men have been noted for their 
attention to details. It has only been through a 
kind of omniscient vigilance over things small as well 
as great that they have been able to rise. A. T. 
Stewart once reproved a clerk for wrapping the 
twine around a bundle once oftener than was 
necessary. Twenty years made Bishop Butlers 
Analogy the work it is. Twenty years made Gib- 
bon's Decline and Fall immortal. Forty years 
made Dr. Adam Clark's Commentaries the authority 
for the Methodist Church, and fifty years made 
Kant's Metaphysics a success. 

The literary works that will live through the 



BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 303 

ages were not dashed off in a single night. Did 
not Isaac Newton re -write his Chronology seven- 
teen times? Did not Bembo re- write his Essays 
thirty times? Did not Moliere pass whole days in 
fixing upon a proper epithet for rhyme? Did not 
Lord Macaulay bestow "incredible" labor on his 
Essays and History? Did not Shelley put his 
manuscripts through such a course of criticism 
that, like Tasso's, they were so full of blots and 
interlineations as to be scarcely decipherable ? 
Gray's Elegy took fourteen years in reaching its 
final revision. These men would not let one word 
stand unless it exactly expressed the desired 
thought. No drudgery of erasing, interlining, 
re -writing, and re -casting was too great. Their 
end was perfection, and filing and polishing were 
their means of attaining it. 

The author of " A Peep into Literary Work- 
shops" says: "Campbell was so scrupulously fastid- 
ious as to nicety of expression, that, in ridicule of 
the rareness and difficulty of his literary parturition, 
especially when the offspring of his throes was 
poetical, one of his waggish friends used gravely 
to assert that, on passing his residence when he 
was writing Theodoric, he observed that the 
knocker was tied up, and the street in front of the 
house covered with straw. Alarmed at these 
appearances, he gently rang the bell, and inquired 
anxiously after the poet's health. 'Thank you, Sir/ 
was the servant's reply, ' Master is doing as well 
as can be expected.' ' Good heavens ! as well as 



304 SUCCESS IS LIFE, 

can be expected! What has happened to him?' 
4 Why, sir, he was this morning delivered of a 
couplet ! ' " 

The man whose voice can be heard on one side 
of every case in the court-room, has not won his 
practice by the electric force of a wish ; he has won 
it by an immense love of details that has carried 
him into every nook of his clients cause, and 
through every musty record, until he is better 
acquainted with the "ifs" and "ands" used during the 
quarrel than the plaintiff and defendant, and knows 
every decision for a hundred years that touches on 
the case. When Rufus Choate had a case of 
importance, his marvelous powers never stopped 
on its general features. He ferreted out each 
slight word of testimony, to know if it came from 
real knowledge ; he pursued every law point that 
was against him, back to the time of its enactment, 
and sought to become acquainted with the circum- 
stances that surrounded the legislators at the time. 
His mind dwelt upon it while he ate, and when the 
weary body caught a moment's sleep, the soul 
received inspirations concerning it. The minutiae 
lay in his mind like old wheat in the mill ; it was 
to be put between the upper and nether millstones 
for the life of his client. He bound up the shreds 
of little things into a cable that could not be broken. 
Pale and haggard he went to the court-room, borne 
down by his infinite knowledge. He seldom lost 
his case. A great lawyer said : " Choate ought to 
win, for he goes through more drudgery for success 









w 




" Genius is patience!' 

COMTE DE BUFFON. 



BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 305 

than any man at the bar." When we see the unre- 
mitting toil of Brougham, the intense application of 
Webster, the patient investigation of Binney, the 
determination of Langdale, we conclude that success 
in law rests largely in mastering details. 

"A profession" carries to many minds the idea of 
luxury and ease. "A business" carries the idea of 
something to be done. They seem to think that in 
"business" alone is there work to be done. In the 
wise economy of nature there is work every where. 
That professional man who does not regard his 
calling as a business will never make a success. 
There is no freedom from toil in any pursuit if you 
would become distinguished in it. Harriet Hosmer, 
standing with chisel and mallet in hand over unhewn 
marble, has a business as real and as toilsome as the 
man who blasts stones out of the quarry. Instead 
of being permitted to use powder and drills and 
sledges to bring about results, she must use a hair 
chisel, and cut the marble by breath-blown chips, 
until its flinty face shall rival the expression of life. 

Even Angelo, who turned stone into statuary as 
if by magic, could not leave the eye until he had put 
upon it ten thousand strokes. Raphael spent days 
bringing to perfection the lips of the Madonna. The 
combined expression of love, fidelity and tenor in 
Rizpah's face was only wrought on canvas from the 
artist's conception, after months of patient effort. 
Murillo nursed the foot of his portrait, dressing it 
over and over again, long after other painters would 
have pronounced it perfect. It is this conscientious 



306 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

and laborious attention to details that thus dis- 
tinguishes the world's masterpieces from its cheap 
performances. 

The mere love of money is not incentive enough 
to make a man thoroughly finish any work. A 
soul-love is necessary to give that artistic comple- 
tion which alone wins enduring applause. Any 
thing short of this, no matter how much or little 
pay there is in it, is to be characterized as mercenary 
and sordid. West sold many of his pictures at 
starving prices, yet he never slighted his pieces 
because they were humble in design. He thought 
only of bringing the picture up to an exalted 
standard, not of the dollars he was to get. 

Which is the orator whose eloquence rings in 
the ears of nations for a dozen rounding centuries? 
Not he, surely, who depends solely on the inspiration 
of the audience and the hour to produce such 
magic influence! It is the man that learns to 
breathe aright; that studies pronunciation and 
accentuation; that practices emphasis and inflection; 
that studies the movement of body, arm, eye, and 
face; that trains his voice; that throws every word 
out from the depth of his soul ; that studies- men 
and measures; that pores over authors; that trans- 
lates the beauties of every language into his mother 
tongue ; that sees the wrong, and has courage to 
confess it ; that marks an enemy, and is bold enough 
to denounce him — such are some of the qualifica- 
tions — such a portion of the mighty preparation 
undergone by ^Eschines, Demosthenes, Brougham, 



BUS IN ESS DRUDGERY. 307 

Clay, and others before they began to accomplish 
results and win undying fame. 

While Cicero's rivals were spending their time 
in waggery, he was driving out the dyspepsia with 
dumb-bells and horizontal bars, and assiduously 
breaking the habit of c: "downcast eye." While the 
lords of the realm were snuo- in cozv beds, Pitt 
was studying precedents and practicing gesture. 
Calhoun's competitors at college, who spent their 
time in " society," went out to the common walks 
of life; he, the thin-visaged recluse, went to cross 
lances with the knights of the Senate chamber. 

It has been said that genius is only a protracted 
patience. It takes this and a tireless energy to 
operate successfully all the minutiae in any calling 
of importance. Louis XIV said: "Kings govern 
by toil." The man who falters over laborious 
details fails to possess one element that every 
successful man possesses in abundance. It is not 
eminent talent that is required to insure success in 
any pursuit, so much as purpose — not merely the 
pcwer to achieve, bu y : the will to labor energetically, 
and perseveringly pursue each minor interest to its 
full completion. This will accomplish more than 
genius, and enable a man to force his way through 
irksome drudgery and dry details to the glorious satis- 
faction of a perfect performance. Fowell Buxton, " the 
master of immense details," placed his confidence 
in ordinary means and extraordinary application. 
He attributed his success to "being a whole man 
to one thing at a time." "In life," said Ary Scheffer, 



308 'SUCCESS IF LIFE. 

"nothing bears fruit except by labor of mind or 
body. To strive and still strive — such is life; and 
in this respect mine is fulfilled ; but I dare to say, 
with just pride, that nothing has ever shaken my 
courage. With a strong soul, and a noble aim, one 
can do what one wills, morally speaking." 

Napoleon's watchword was "Glory." Nelson went 
into battle with a much better one — " Duty." 
Glory strikes for general results, taking little con- 
sideration of the means, and will sooner or later 
come to ruin. Duty looks at the value of the 
work to be accomplished, and conscientiously 
perfects every insignificant detail. When did the 
world ever see such a career as that of William 
Pitt? He took the helm of England and held her 
prow straight to her honor and his greatness, 
during a period of twenty-five years, surrounded by 
competition, jealousies, and intrigues, more power- 
ful than ever existed against any former Prime 
Minister. We see him, " neglecting every thing 
else — careless of friends; careless of expenditures, 
so that with an income of fifty thousand dollars 
yearly, and no family, he died hopelessly in debt; 
tearing up by the roots from his heart a love most 
deep and tender, because it ran counter to his 
ambition ; totally indifferent to posthumous fame, 
so that he did not take the pains to transmit to 
posterity a single one of his speeches; utterly 
insensible to the claims of art, literature, and belles- 
lettres ; living and working terribly for the one sole 
purpose of wielding the governing power of the 



BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 309 

nation." His soul was swallowed up by this one 
passion. 

The energies of his mighty intellect were concen- 
trated on the one aim. He did nothing by halves. 
He knew every movement of the foreign powers, 
and was advised of the character and habits of 
every officer in the empire. He knew the effect 
of every statute, the condition of every military 
post, the condition of the crops, and what legisla- 
tion was needed for each locality. He seemed never 
to sleep; his senses were always wide awake, and 
he never forgot any thing. His knowledge so 
penetrated every nook of the nation's interest it 
seemed omniscient. His contemporaries called him 
a heaven-born statesman. 

One can get too deep into drudgery sometimes, 
like the old sea captain who, when there was nothing 
else for the sailors to do, put them to scrubbing the 
anchor. A farmer can get up at his day's work too 
early ; a merchant can re-arrange and dust his goods 
too often ; a carpenter can drive a nail in too far to 
do the most good ; a speaker can change, amend and 
polish his speeches, as Canning did, until he nearly 
polishes away the original spirit — yet it is scarcely 
worth the time to drop such a hint in America. 
Here we have orators by the multitude who "run at 
the mouth" through every political campaign, but 
were never known to utter a new idea or polish an 
old sentence. Here carpenters do well if they get 
the nails in at all ; merchants have no time to 
re-arrange and dust goods, for planning how to sell; 



310 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

and farmers no longer get up too early, when they 
go on riding-plows and tend forty acres of corn to 
the man. 

But there are those who wear themselves out in a 
menial sort of way, not by overdoing any thing that 
ought to be done, but by undertaking many more 
things than they are able to do. Details are not 
injurious unless the work itself is too great Our 
peep into workshops has not prepossessed us in 
favor of one person having many undertakings. Nor 
are we convinced that they can long throw off work 
rapidly and well. Even the varied powers of De 
Vinci never did more than one thing well. Race- 
horse speed at work is only skimming over the 
surface of things. Business dispatch is a great 
attainment, but it is a failure if made at the cost 
of correctness or a waste of power. 

The Duke of Wellington had a prodigious ability 
for business affairs. As a military chieftain alone, 
he could never have won his splendid success. The 
vast and daring plans of Bonaparte would have been 
visionary schemes to him. Without a vivid imagina- 
tion, without being able to look along extended lines 
of action, without any of the dashing qualities that 
signalized the campaigns of Caesar and Hannibal, he 
gained his triumphs by patient toil and never neglect- 
ing any thing. He trusted nothing to subordinates. 
Nothing was of too little importance for his atten- 
tion, if it was connected with the comfort of his men. 
He understood the commissariat of ships, muskets 
and men, of artillery, overcoats and provisions. He 



BUSINESS DHUDGERY. 311 

knew as much about the bacon and shoes of each 
corps as he did about the number of men he had and 
their arrangement for the next battle. 

We find him at Lisbon, when food was not to 
be obtained from home, creating commissariat bills, 
and filling his magazines from the Mediterranean 
and South American ports. He did what England 
could not do, victualed his army, and the surplus 
he profitably sold to the needy Portuguese. He 
ordered the soldiers' shoes, showed how the low 
square heel should be made, inspected camp-kettles, 
smelled the flour to see if it was moldy, and 
bought horse-fodder. He issued an order directing 
the precise manner in which the soldiers should 
cook their provisions, and specified the exact speed 
at which the bullocks were to be driven. " A 
friend said to him, ' It seems to me, Duke, that 
your chief business in India was to procure rice 
and bullocks.' 'And so it was,' replied Wellington, 
'for if I had rice and bullocks, I had men; and if 
I had men, I knew I could beat the enemy/" 

Not only did Wellington personally superintend 
the vast details which gathered about the comfort 
and success of his great army, but he also per- 
formed the full work of a statesman. One of his 
ablest dispatches to Lord Clive, concerning the 
governments interests and the conducting of their 
present campaign, was written while the column he 
commanded was crossing the Toombuddra, in the 
face of a vastly superior army on the opposite 
bank, and while a thousand matters of deepest 



312 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

interest were pressing on his mind. Napier says, 
that " it was while he was preparing to fight the 
battle of Salamanca that he had to expose to the 
ministers at home the futility of relying upon a 
loan ; it was on the heights of San Christoval, on 
the field of battle itself, that he demonstrated the 
absurdity of attempting to establish a Portuguese 
bank; it was in the trenches of Burgos that he 
dissected Funchal's scheme of finance, and exposed 
the folly of attempting the sale of church property. 
He showed himself to be as fully posted on these 
subjects as with the minutest details in his army." 
The range of his knowledge was as vast and 
minute as the interests of the great people whose 
history he was creating. Largely owing to his 
practical talent, and his extraordinary ability of 
knowing and controlling the minutest details, did 
he win his splendid victories and achieve the soli- 
tary distinction of never losing a battle. 

The princes in trading pursuits have won their 
spurs by ceaseless toil. The merchant who banks 
a million did not secure it by a lofty speculation, 
or by indifference to small things, but by the 
patient accretions of close economy; by watching 
the clerks and the markets; by working off the 
remnants and working in the odds and ends of 
time; by close collections and prompt payments, 
thereby securing good discounts on cash ; by study- 
ing the wants of his customers as to thread and 
ribbons, ties and trinkets ; by studying branches 
of trade carefully, and so informing himself as to 



BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 313 

what is going on and what is to be had ; by 
scanning time-tables and freight - bills, and so 
economizing time, distance, and dollars. Ten thou- 
sand purchases were made; ten thousand times 
goods were shown without any sales being secured ; 
and twice ten thousand seeming trifles, that clerks 
neglected, were attended to by him before he put 
that million in bank. 

While others sat in easy chairs, reading the papers 
to learn what men were elected to office, and who 
had married and died, he ransacked the market 
tables to find an article a customer had inquired 
after. He has been clerk, cashier, book-keeper and 
buyer by turns ; he has been overreached in pur- 
chasing stocks, defrauded by assistants, betrayed by 
confidential employees, abused by his competitors, 
and insulted by his customers. He has been charged 
with giving short measure, selling auction goods, and 
being on the verge of bankruptcy. He has been 
taking stock and balancing up the accounts of the 
year, while others were at the seaside. He has 
brooded over the needs of his customers for the 
next season as a physician does over the convales- 
cence of a patient. He has familiarized himself with 
every new style in the market, studied the career of 
every successful tradesman, and taken into considera- 
tion the causes that led to the downfall of every 
bankrupt. He has told no man of his losses, said 
but little about his gains, pocketed reverses with a 
smile, acted the gentleman with all the world, kept 
his wits at his fingers' ends, and now he is rich. All 



314 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

his competitors shut their eyes to his sagacity, earned 
by study and experience, his rigid economy and tire- 
less devotion to business, and say, "He has been 
surrounded by happy circumstances, and every thing 
his fingers touched has turned to gold." 

We come back, after a look over the field of 
successful men in these pursuits, profoundly con- 
vinced that there is no genuine success without 
great labor. For every success — happiness, wealth, 
fame — a just equivalent must be rendered. "There 
is a silent law," says Mr. Beecher, "of which men are 
mostly unconscious, that works incessantly in human 
affairs and infallibly determines results. It may be 
called the law of industrial equivalents. In the 
great strife of commercial life, the gains which men 
seem to make without having rendered for them a 
fair equivalent in some shape, of work, skill, thought, 
or other valuable quality, will not build them up. To 
do one any good, riches must be earned. We must 
render a fair equivalent of service for every hundred 
dollars." So in all other conditions of human effort, 
success has its price. It is a fair law of give and 
take. You can only reap as you have sowed. 

In every calling the men who have attained 
eminence have been laborious toilers. A narrow 
mind despises minute particulars, and a weak intel- 
lect spurns little things. But men whom nature has 
marshaled for victory never think of minutiae as a 
trifle. Somehow, without reasoning why, they devote 
the same reverential service to the minute particulars 
that they do to the master-strokes of their schemes. 



BUSINESS DRUDGERY. 315 

Experience has decided that there is no royal road 
to the height of great achievement. It is only 
reached after a weary march through mud, and din, 
and toil. And it is only kept while you keep 
"marching on." Remember, therefore, if you would 
win, to be at your post early and late; that the 
whole is made up of details, and that all are truly 
of equal importance. Cultivate the lofty concep- 
tions of a Titian, and work like a horse. The 
Bishop of Exeter said : " Of all work that produces 
results, nine-tenths must be drudgery." 





burning ^ointg. 



There is a tide in the affairs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; 
Omitted, all the voyage of their life 
Is bound in shallows and in miseries. 

— Shakspeare. 

Tact clinches the bargain; 

Sails out of the bay; 
Gets the vote in the Senate 

Spite of Webster or Clay. 

— Emerson. 





CHAPTER XIV. 



TURNING POINTS. 



TRAIGHTFORWARD courage, enterprise, 
and good faith, are truly fertile with results 
and with rewards. They are the ordinary means 
by which the gradual changes in life are effected. 
Beyond this there is the vague, vast chapter of 
incident, which seems capricious, but is a regular 
part of life's ongoings. As the great natural gaps 
in the coast ranges draw the gentle sea breeze 
into their funnels, and then send them on with 
hurricane power over the broad plains beyond, so 
all moral movements tend to a focus. All nature 
seeks a climax. The common circumstances of life 
move on in their wonted course ; albeit, there is a 
power inappreciable to the common eye that draws 
them to the funnel. They strike that focus — the 
event within itself is of no more brilliancy than a 
thousand other events — but with their gathered 
power they burst over vast territories of action, 
influencing untold results. Greece won greater vic- 
tories than Marathon, and Persia received more 



318 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

crushing defeats; but that battle occurred at the 
crisis of national life, when it made secure the 
liberties of Greece and bid her civilization and 
culture instill a new life into all the nations of 
earth. 

Dean Alford said : " There are moments that are 
worth more than years. We can not help it : there 
is no proportion between spaces of time in impor- 
tance nor in value. A sick man may have the 
unwearied attendance of his physician for weeks, 
and then may perish in a minute because he is not 
by. A stray, unthought-of five minutes may contain 
the event of a life. And this all-important moment, 
this moment disproportionate to all other moments, 
who can tell when it will be upon us?" Men who, 
like Dean Alford, have let a five minutes stray away 
unthought of, and then have waked up to find that it 
contained the event of years, are not slow to appreci- 
ate the value of these immortal passages in life ; but 
to appreciate them before they come, and to throttle 
them as they pass, is the act upon which a life's 
history often turns. 

There are whole multitudes of men who, as they 
go tottering down the hill of life, take a retrospect 
of their early years, and are able to see distinctly 
where they missed their chance, and because of it 
have been floundering in the mire ever since. There 
is an astonishing amount of hind-sightedness in the 
world. 

Men are every day losing their confidence in 
chance-work. They are coming to regard a happy 



TURNING POINTS. 319 

chance as simply an occasion which sums up and 
brings to a result previous training. Accidental 
circumstances are nothing except to men who have 
been trained to take advantage of them. A great 
occasion is worth to a man just what his antecedents 
have enabled him to make of it. Erskine affords a 
striking illustration of this thought. He started at 
the bar without social connections and under most 
discouraging circumstances. He was poor, and had 
no old lawyer to "feed" him a case. He looked 
forward to a weary waiting for success. He was 
on starvations brink when he received his first 
retainer. But one shilling was left in his pocket. 
He was preparing to start to the country to secure, 
if possible, a small loan, when he sprained his ankle, 
and was forced to abandon the trip. Had he made 
that trip, he might have remained on the back 
benches of the court-room, a briefless attorney for- 
ever, or would have revived his rusty commission 
in the army for bread and butter. 

Captain Baillie called on him and found him 
confined with his ankle. Erskine agreed to defend 
him against the prosecution brought by Lord Sand- 
wich, which he did triumphantly, and at once passed 
to the head of the English bar. Even after the 
brief was handed to him he would not have figured 
as more than a silent attorney in the case, had not a 
series of accidental circumstances favored him. Four 
senior barristers had been retained; he had been 
retained for the sake of old acquaintance ; he 
could not hope to be heard after these distin- 



320 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

guished advocates, and so let the matter go. But, 
fortunately, the affidavits were so long, running 
through the whole course of the Admiralty, and 
one of the counsel so tedious — "a tediousness 
aggravated by the circumstance that one of them 
was afflicted with strangury, and had to retire 
once or twice in the course of his argument" — that 
the court was adjourned till next day. 

Erskine had the afternoon and night before him. 
Never did man harness minutes to better advantage. 
Possessed of an iron constitution, he came to court 
the next day as vigorous as ever. The Court was 
now fresh, and its faculties wide awake. Of the 
young attorney's effort Lord Campbell said: "It 
was the most wonderful forensic effort of which we 
have any account in British annals." Erskine says: 
" I have since flourished, but have always blessed 
God for the providential strangury of poor Har- 
grave." 

Within four years he was granted, at the sugges- 
tion of Lord Mansfield, letters patent of precedence 
at the bar. From his defense of the impeached 
Lord Gordon, to his triumphant vindication of 
Home Tooke, he sustained the dazzling grandeur 
of his debut. Seldom has a brilliant start in life — 
perhaps the entire success of a life — been owing to 
so many lucky circumstances. Yet, who does not 
see that every chance would have been shorn of 
its power to the one-briefed attorney, if he had not, 
by former study, self-culture, and great decision of 
character, prepared himself to seize upon this 



TURNING F0INT8. 321 

crisis of his life and out of its unpromising mate- 
rials hew his destiny? 

Charles XII of Sweden was impoverishing his 
people and wasting his own life with the voluptuous 
attaches of his court when Peter the Great thought 
to make conquest of his kingdom, and, allied with 
Denmark and Poland, proceeded to march upon 
his soil. The boy king, who had never denied 
himself a pleasure, and who was not recognized as 
having any ability beyond court manners, was sud- 
denly transformed into a stern soldier. He was 
about to be dishonored and his crown taken from 
his brow. He dismissed his courtiers, and drew his 
sword never to sheath it again. He banished wine 
from his board, coarse bread was often his only 
food, and he not unfrequently slept on the ground, 
wrapped in his cloak. Augustus sent Aurora von 
Konigsmark with the hope of entangling Charles 
into some intrigue. The young king refused to see 
the beauty; and, furnishing her instant passport out 
of his camp, also sent word that he had quit his 
chamber and was going forth to embrace his 
enemies. 

He concentrated his army with a Napoleonic 
rapidity, fell on the Danes, overwhelmed them, and 
dictated the terms of peace in six weeks after the 
declaration of war. He conducted campaigns under 
adverse circumstances, moved his army in the dead 
of winter, and gave battle to vastly outnumbering 
forces. He retained his own throne, and seated and 
unseated kings. He carried on wars for eighteen 

21 



322 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

years with an army so far inferior to the enemy 
in numbers that it would have disheartened Caesar 
or Hannibal. He maintained his aggressive spirit 
to the last. 

You know not how much everlasting fate hangs 
on ''trifles light as air;" a single deed, a word, a 
frown, a spider's web, may become the turning point 
of destiny. Sallust says a periwinkle led to the 
capture of Gibraltar. The bullet which accidentally 
struck Gustavus on the field of Lutzen, turned the 
course of history. Luther was inspired to his great 
undertakings by reading the life of John Huss; and 
William Carey entered on his sublime labors as a 
missionary under the influence of "Captain Cook's 
Voyages." A verger, after replenishing an oil lamp 
in the Pisa Cathedral, left it swinging to and fro. 
Galileo, seeing it, conceived the idea of measuring 
time by a pendulum. A spider's web suspended 
across a garden path resulted in Sir Samuel Brown 
inventing the suspension bridge. Lounging on a 
pile of lumber, Brunei noticed a ship-worm boring 
its way into a piece of wood with its well-armed 
head, and then daub the roof and sides with its 
varnish ; he accepted the lesson, and tunneled the 
Thames. 

Those men who are successful in" making turning- 
points possess large individuality and self-assertion. 
They repose in such a wealth of power that their 
spring is similar to that of a tiger from its lair. No 
pale thoughts ever quiver and fluctuate in their 
minds. They are always ready, rapier in hand, 



TURNING POINTS. 323 

knowing what thrusts and turns of the fatal blade 
most surely disarm their antagonists. Franklin, 
when quite a youth, entered a printing office in 
London and inquired if he could get employment 
as a printer. " Where are you from ? " inquired the 
foreman. "America," was the reply. "Ah!" said 
the foreman, "from America ! A lad from America 
seeking employment as a printer ! Well, do you 
really understand the art of printing? Can you set 
type?" Franklin stepped to a case and in a few 
moments set up the following passage from the first 
chapter of John's Gospel: "Nathaniel saith unto him, 
'Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ?' Philip 
saith unto him, 'Come and see !'" 

This instantaneous selfhood is a vital matter. In 
plebeian or patrician it is the indication of a ruler. 
One must step forth in the confidence of power if he 
would have the world recognize him. Cassius asserts 
what many men do not find to be true until their last 
opportunity has departed, when he says: 

" Men at some time are masters of their fates : 
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 
But in ourselves, that we are underlings." 

This same principle holds true in the histories 
of all men at some time in life. They are thrown 
into a mood by force of circumstances, wherein 
some power touches them — a sort of good genius 
— and the whole current of their beino- flows with 
renewed vigor. Did not Faraday, a poor bookseller's 
boy, with his soul longing for a knowledge of chem- 



324 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

istry, scratch down notes from Humphrey Davy's 
lectures, and, on having the temerity to send them 
to the great head of the Royal Institution, receive 
an appointment there in which he laid the founda- 
tion for his splendid career ? When the timorous 
Crabbe called on Burke with his labored and graphic 
poetry, to secure a momentary glance from that busy 
statesman's eye, did not the prescient remark, " Good! 
There's genius there!" send the English vicar away 
a made man ? Columbus, weary under the heat of a 
southern sun, once asked for a drink of water at 
a convent door. The prior, won by his manly 
bearing, grew interested in his notions of discovery, 
and gave him the introductions he so sorely needed. 
In return Columbus gave to Castile and Aragon a 
new world. 

There is a time when the mind is full of active, 
fermenting thought, and seems to wait for the 
impregnating moment that shall fertilize it. How 
often we touch along on supreme moments and 
know it not! Lord Eldon, then plain John Scott, 
made his famous, first speech in court, saying, 
afterward, he felt all the time that his wife and 
children were tugging at his robe, beseeching him 
to do his best; and when his fee was handed him, 
thought of nothing but the joy it" would bring to 
that poor home, until an attorney whispered in his 
ear, as he left the house, "Young man, your bread 
and butter is made." Unknown to himself, he had 
already started for the Great Seal. 

Such incidents do not happen so infrequently 



TURNING POINTS. 325 

after all, but only the observing, decisive men 
know when they come. The man and the hour 
must approach simultaneously. Each must be 
worthy the other. There are lawyers who, if a 
golden opportunity came to them, would sit down 
and tell the judge that they could not go on with- 
out their senior counsel. There are army officers 
who, in every case of emergency, are at a dead 
stand-still if their general does not tell them what 
to do. There are college professors who are so 
drilled into the ruts of the text-books that they 
would not be able to add an original idea in 
teaching the class, if their lives were the forfeit. 
What is the value of opportunity to such men ? 
The man who has a sudden chance presented to 
him must have a trained mind and practical talent 
to enable him to meet the emergency. These are 
the occasions for the exhibition of ability: they can 
not create ability. So, in what appear to be matters 
of luck, the element of chance does not very much 
prevail. Worthy men will, in the vast majority of 
cases, come to the front, and accident, or want of 
accident, only temporarily retards them. 

Start two men of equal scholarship into the race 
of life, one a genius and the other a mediocre man. 
While the genius of one may accomplish great 
feats, the wise discrimination of the other will 
enable him to utilize every opportunity that comes 
within his reach, and attain more beneficial results 
for himself and for the world. This is why medioc- 
rity so oft outstrips genius. Any man will make a 



326 SUCCESS IN LIFE, 

success in life who makes the best possible use of 
the circumstances by which he is surrounded. The 
lack of this practical ability to turn every incident 
to its best use, is our most fruitful cause of failure. 
While the man of prodigious attainments is upon 
the mountains, tugging away at the stars, the 
half-lettered, but thoroughly disciplined, man of 
business is pushing along the valley, through dust 
and stones, to fame and fortune. 

Profound scholarship often proves an obstacle to 
a man's rising in the world. It would not, if all 
men were equally educated; but the larger half are 
deprived of college advantages, and relying on their 
wits to make up the deficit, they secure tact and 
generalship that intellectual qualities rarely possess. 
The intellectual man knows much of books; he 
is deep in the sciences ; he is versed in the lore of 
the ancients; he is polished and classical; he is an 
acquisition in the drawing-room, and of some value 
on the platform, or before a class. But, alas for 
him, in the whirl and strife among keen compet- 
itors! Like a well-formed horse, fed on oil-cake, 
he is sleek and symmetrical, well-rounded, and a 
beauty to behold; but he was not built for a load, 
and is too fat for the race-course. 

Men who have had their heads inordinately 
stuffed with Greece and Rome, until they are 
beside themselves with much learning, unfortu- 
nately have little or no edge to their native 
character. They are so highly polished that the 
lessons of experience glance off, taking no hold : 



TURNING POINTS. 327 

cultivated to such an unnatural size that their vigor 
is all gone; so self-poised they have no enthusiasm; 
so civilized they can not strike a bargain ; so refined 
they are unfitted to descend to the drudgery requisite 
to success ; so full of general splendor they can 
put a focus on no particular object; so indefinite 
in all their characteristics that they utterly lack 
force and incisiveness. Thus they sleep through 
the world, in a go-easy sort of way, keeping their 
friends in constant expectation of their performing 
some great feat, and eventually turn into their 
graves, not having drawn any thing but blanks. 
On the other hand, the men who are thrown out 
of school with but a partial education, and no 
symmetry in their development ; who have rough, 
jagged corners of character; who, like the gnarled 
and knotted oaks on the mountain side, between 
fighting the storms for their place above, and quar- 
reling with the rocks to get a bold for their roots 
beneath, grow to untold size and might; who have 
just enough education to equip them for life's 
battles, and still so little as to give them a oro- 

' O J. 

found consciousness of their ignorance — such men 
as these will be constantly warring with their fate, 
striving to overcome all disadvantages; necessitated 
to keep their wits at their fingers' ends, they will 
be forced into self-reliance, and gradually become 
bold, venturesome and victorious. 

These men have enough individualitv left in them 
to do things their own way. Whenever thev come 
in conflict with your smooth fellows, their horns gore 



328 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

them to death. Their original traits are unshorn. 
They are trained to a high degree of vigor ; and, 
prompted forward by necessity, they rush into the 
combat with no other intention than to win. Is this 
not almost universally true? Are not our half-edu- 
cated, strong-willed, self-reliant men the ones that 
accomplish our most serviceable work in every 
department in life ? The men who control the 
commerce — the money-makers — east and west, are 
these vigorous, self-made men. They are our leading 
lawyers, from New York to San Francisco. They 
are our most successful merchants. They are our 
controlling statesmen, like Webster and Clay. And 
even many of our greatest scientists and discoverers 
were never accepted as erudite scholars. 

This is not denying the worth of learning. The 
estimate placed on intellectual training, elsewhere in 
this volume, shows how much we prize it. But it is 
an historical fact that soft hands have not performed 
the world's great labors. The men who have made 
history and shaped the destiny of nations, were not 
trained in college halls nor molded by the culture 
of the drawing-room. When we see the worlds 
shining orator living in a cave, and training his voice 
against the ocean's roar ; when we see Constantine, 
who never read a book, conquering. Rome and giving 
a feeble church the power by which she swayed the 
destinies of Europe for a thousand years ; when we 
see Charles the Great, barely able to sign his own 
name ; when we see Walpole holding power for 
thirty years and scorning Teaming; when we see 



TURNING POINTS. 329 

Franklin, who wandered like an Arab through the 
streets in his early years, robbing the skies of light- 
ning and circumventing the machinations of hostile 
powers; when we see the "profoundly ignorant" 
Jackson managing the government with a vigor 
unknown before ; when we see the rough, unhewn 
backwoodsman, Lincoln, become the idol of his party 
and give freedom to four million slaves — we feel 
convinced that, whatever elegant scholarship may be 
worth, the experience gained from actual life is the 
wisdom that rules the world. 

Experience shows that a mind trained by necessity 
and adversity is far more operative in all the sterner 
conflicts of mankind than one refined by classic 
lore. That man who comes to a contest relying on 
himself feeling, it may be, that in all matters of 
general knowledge he is far inferior to his opponent, 
but that he is master of all the elements to be used 
in this struggle, will not be easily overthrown. 
Hundreds of men have grown rich and influential 
whose college hall was a log school - house, whose 
seats were split logs, and whose curriculum was the 
three R's — Readin, Ritin, and Rithmetic. Endowed 
with honest purposes and strong common-sense, they 
gathered, in their rustic retreats, the hard facts of 
practical wisdom about men and things. When they 
came to strike for results in the great arena of life, 
every blow was planted with telling effect. They 
hurled themselves upon their opponents with unerring 
judgment, and before their headlong dash the 
gorgeous graduate was driven out of sight. 



330 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Another highly important particular is the time of 
doing a thing. It is not enough to do the right 
thing ; it must be done at the right time, in the right 
place. Some one said of Andy Johnson that, "he 
could do the rightest thing at the wrongest time of 
any man in America." The world is full of these 
impractical people, whose hearts are bursting with 
good purposes, but who always perpetrate them on 
poor subjects. It is a crime for one to do a right 
act at the wrong time. A man may be an acute and 
sagacious writer, and be able to comprehend the 
thousand conditions that fence a question in, and 
solve them all with his pen, but when he descends 
from his solitary elevation to cast his efforts upon the 
world, if it is not the fullness of time, he is marched 
off to oblivion as a failure. 

Butler's Hudibras was an uninviting, sarcastic 
poem, but the lucky time of its advent on the world 
secured it an enduring fame. It was hurled at the 
cant and pious pretense of the Cromwellian authori- 
ties, just after the Restoration, when Puritanical 
severity of manners was beginning to look ludicrous 
to English eyes. So with that late book of George 
Eliot's, Daniel Deronda: if given to the public 
twenty years ago, it would have been a very dry 
story ; but coming up and grappling, in its novel 
form, with the nationalizing of the Jews in Palestine, 
in the very hours when the Rothschilds are drawing 
a mortgage on the Vatican; when Russia is trampling 
the crescent in the dust; when Disraeli is flashing his 
scimeter in the face of all the diplomats ; when the 



TTTBXIXG POINTS. 331 

Jews are all disturbed by the doctrine of re-coloni- 
zation, and are moving to the gift of Jehovah by 
hundreds — it strikes the current of universal demand, 
and is the pronounced success of the year. 

It is tact our unsuccessful men lack, not talent. 
They are filled with soarings after the infinite, but 
they never know what to do with the finite. It is 
tact that makes men respectable, obtains position, 
and gets riches. Talent is intellectual ; tact has no 
necessary connection with knowledge. Talent solves 
all the abstruse, hidden, and complex difficulties, 
through laborious mental study ; tact feels that this 
is right, dives at the result, and comes up victorious 
without an effort. The world worships talent, but 
engages tact to do its business. In all the real con- 
cerns of life tact wins the race before talent gets a fair 
start Those rough and smooth "Scourges of God," 
and "Darlings of the Human Race," like Julius 
Caesar, Charles V of Spain, Charles XII of Sweden, 
were sufficient men, standing on legs of iron, with 
sword and staff — tact and talent — in hand. They 
were equal as officers to their office; as captains to 
their wars ; as ministers to their states, and who, as 
emperors, could have spared their empires. They 
were students of the forum and field. The world 
was their estate, passing events their commerce, and 
victory their privilege. 

The world admires Coriolanus and Gracchus, 
Lafavette and Wellington, Washington and Grant, 
because of their pure manhood. They are men who 
fill Clarendon's portrait of Hampden — "who was of 



332 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

an industry and vigilance not to be tired out or 
wearied by the most laborious, and of parts not to 
be imposed on by the most subtle and sharp, and 
of a personal courage equal to his best parts." 

Few men are able to do many things, as did 
Leonardo de Vinci. But when they undertake one, 
and sink into a statute-book or machine, the very 
singleness of the undertaking seals their doom. 
Sir Isaac Newton adorned mathematics, expounded 
the prophecies, and was a good master of the mint. 
Niebuhr mastered the Arabic, Russian and Slavonic 
languages, and became the first of historians ; yet 
he was so efficient in the management of business 
that the Danish Government appointed him com- 
missioner of the national finances. Daru could not 
be a courtier, but he could write books, enter into 
philosophical disquisitions, and, at the same time, 
be the most efficient prime minister France ever 
had. ll All things have two handles," the old oracle 
said. It is a man's own fault if he grasps but one. 

Again, the man who can discover something new 
that the world really needs, will find in it the birth 
of a new success. The world waited from the days 
of the Ptolemies for Stephenson to come. It waited 
from the first stroke of the manufacturer and the first 
effort at commerce for Watt. Europe and America 
waited for Cyrus Field from 1620 until the other 
morning. And civil liberty mourned and would not 
be comforted, from the days of the first despot until 
Columbus loosed from Palos and started for a new 
world. 



TURNING POINTS, 333 

An observing habit is one of the surest of agencies 
to prepare one for coming events, and thereby 
enable him to trim sails and take the tide at its 
flood. The multitude are able to see an opportunity 
after it has passed. Only the observing man, who 
carries his wits uppermost, is able to see coming 
events by the shadows they cast before. And yet 
the world is always wondering how it is that this 
man is in the nick of time with every thing he does. 
Close observation is much a matter of habit. The 
man who starts in life with the habit of thought- 
lessness, who never sees any thing, starts heavily 
weighted in the race. He has a doubly-hard con- 
quest on his hands. He must conquer the instinct 
of habit and conquer the world. Careless observa- 
tion has an effect upon all our actions, much as 
the plague of Athens, which, Thucydides tells us, 
drew all other diseases into its one prevalent type 
of illness. The great discoverers have been observ- 
ing, thoughtful men. Columbus and Cook never let 
a sea-weed float by their vessels unnoticed. Audu- 
bon and Humboldt would follow a chirping bird 
or skulking animal for miles into the pathless 
forest, and return precisely by the same route. 
Clay and Pitt could reply to a four-hours' speech, 
argument by argument, without the use of notes. 
It is this faculty which so blesses Spurgeon with 
daily food for his pulpit, and it grants to Beecher 
the material for his illustrations, without which his 
sermons would lose much of their striking power. 

To get on successfully there must be a settled, 



334 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

stolid determination to that end. " To show capa- 
city," a Frenchman describes as the end of a speech 
in debate; "No," said an Englishman, "but to set 
your shoulder to the wheel — 'to advance the busi- 
ness." Sir Samuel Romilly refused to speak before 
popular assemblies, and confined himself to the 
House of Commons, where a measure could be 
carried by a speech. The high positions in England 
are not beds of ease. The man who wins his spurs 
there must do frightful amounts of labor. Peel 
"knew the Blue Books by heart." 

An Englishman is long-headed. He is willing to 
bide his time, but when the time comes he strikes 
with awful ferocity. His island is renowned for its 
breed of mastiffs, so fierce that, when their teeth 
are set, you must cut their heads off to part them. 
The people are like their dogs : the English wrestle 
is main force pitted against main force, the planting 
of foot to foot, fair play and open field — a rough 
tug, without trick or dodging, until one or both come 
down ; like old King Ethelwald, who planted him- 
self at Wimborne, and said " he would do one of 
two things — or there live, or there lie." 

An essayist, speaking of this trait, says : " The 
Englishman speaks with all his body. His elocution 
is stomachic, as the American's is labial. He betrays 
himself at all points, in his manners, in his respira- 
tion, and the inarticulate noises he makes in clearing 
his throat — all significant of burly strength. He 
has stamina ; he can take the initiative in emergen- 
cies. He has that aplomb which results from a good 



TURNING POINTS. 335 

adjustment of the moral and physical nature, and the 
obedience of all the powers to the will, as if the axes 
of his eyes were united to his backbone, and only 
moved with the trunk." The American needs more 
of this quality in his character. He is as much on 
the alert as the Englishman, but he lacks that deter- 
mined following of a course that makes a man 
superior to difficulties, and chains destiny to his 
chariot-wheels. 





CHAPTER XV. 

TURNING POINTS. 

[continued.] 




N OTHER power that gives one a good turn 
in going to success is self -advertising. Merit 
is not a failure, and modesty is not a humbug ; but if 
a man would get on to his destiny by the fast line, 
he must blow his own trumpet. Most men have come 
to the conclusion that a little tinge of charlatanism is 
needed to give flavor to a fine achievement. Act- 
ing upon this doctrine, merchants, lawyers, doctors, 
and even ministers, are seen flaunting to the public 
eye the banner of self-praise. 

The art of self-advancement is not so much to 
do a thing well, as to get a thing that has been 
moderately well done largely talked about. It has 
been said that "the works of DeQuincey, without 
newspaper puffing, would find purchasers only 
among pastry-cooks and barbers;" while the last 
sensational novel, That Husband of Mine, by 
means of staring posters and gushing notices, has 

336 



TURNING- POINTS. 337 

in six weeks run up a sale of a hundred thousand 
copies. What is more common than to see the 
brazen-faced doctor, who has just arrived, ignore 
all the other physicians, hang up his diploma by 
his front window, and in four months have half the 
community working to bring him the practice of 
the other half? 

Who has not seen a young attorney walk into 
the bar for the first time, and plead his ten-dollar 
case moderately well ; but, in his self-sufficient way, 
every gesture was the flash of a conqueror's scim- 
eter ; the very tone of his voice seemed to say, "/ 
am master of the situation," and his self-reliant 
demeanor made every one in the court-room feel 
like handing him a retainers fee. Andy Johnson 
was at one time the most popular politician in the 
Union, and to set up one of his speeches would 
exhaust the Vs. in a metropolitan publishing office. 
Is it not a matter of common occurrence for a 
second-rate man to be introduced into a social 
circle, and, by a few aptly-turned conversations 
make himself the leading man of the company ? 
How many men went into the army corporals and 
came out colonels, without bravery or adventitious 
circumstances to aid them, simply because they 
courted headquarters and acted all the time as 
though they were colonels? 

No matter how sharply the moralist may censure 
this policy, the greater portion of our successful 
tradespeople are engaging in it. It is refreshing to 
see the medical and legal profession weeding out the 



338 SUCCESS- IN LIFE. 

quack advertisers from their associations, but the 
man who makes an advertisement out of himself can 
not be beheaded so easily, for this self-advertising is 
a part of the individualism of the man. Some of the 
richest wits that society possesses utter their finest 
conceits in a nervous, self-distrusting, stammering 
way, that damns them on their lips. On the other 
hand, some of the most solid talkers we have, inno- 
cently present themselves as the heroes of their 
every conversation, and it is done with such natural 
grace that the company falls in love with the 
hero. 

Some men will write two columns of original 
matter daily for some great paper for six months, 
and then apply at the office for a situation, and be 
told that they may come in on trial for a week or 
two. Another man will write an article, and even 
the newsboys will find him out. Gray was so 
morbidly sensitive that he shuddered when he saw 
his name in a newspaper. Byron dictated to 
reporters like a king. Now, shrewd business men 
have observed the naturalness of this principle in 
some men, and the lack of it in others ; and, noting 
the effect it had on their advancement, they have 
set about making it part of their stock-in-trade. 

This method of seeking for promotion can not 
be too stoutly condemned when it approaches the 
borders of " sharp practice." Success is not worth 
the sacrifice of a single honorable principle. If a 
man can not advance himself and his wares without 
descending to this sordid cunning, he will find small 



TURNING POINTS. 339 

sales and small profits with a clear conscience 
to be the highest of rewards ; but timidity about 
emphasizing one's ego, or pronouncing decidedly on 
the quality of his goods, is as far on the line of 
silliness as the other is on the line of viciousness. 
A man's good opinion of himself is a part of his 
capital. 

No man can hope to get on who thinks meanly 
of himself. The world seldom puts a higher estimate 
on a man than he puts on himself. Somehow, the 
man that thinks well of himself, and acts well 
toward himself, will cheat us into thinking and 
acting in the same way toward him. Just so with 
his wares — if he speaks of them in a timid, half- 
confident sort of way, we feel just that way toward 
them, and we pass to the next door and buy the 
same brand of goods at ten per cent, advance, 
going away happy, because the merchant has 
stamped them with his own self-assurance. 

There is a moral demand on every man to place 
a good stout estimate on himself and on all with 
which he has to do. The one extreme of undue 
depreciation and the other extreme of supercilious 
puffing are to be avoided. But honor, in a stronger 
voice than success, calls for a creditable estimate 
of himself and of his business. Who ever heard of 
Wellington or Bonaparte underrating his abilities? 
Neither were they ever known foolishly to laud 
them. They knew what they were worth, and said 
so; and the world's confidence in their self-assertion 
helped them to success. The humble Nazarene 



340 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

was too honest and sincere to ever underspeak his 
own worth, even when his life was the forfeit. All 
the world can see why he ought to have moderated 
his claims at Pilate's bar; but he was too devoted 
to himself and what he had to do for this. So, 
every man's self and business should be to him the 
most important in all the world, and so ground into 
his very blood and bone that he will speak its value 
in every thing he does. 

There is another reason for this. Every man is 
taken up with his own concerns. He has but little 
time to notice the merits of others. Hence the man 
who incessantly obtrudes himself upon the eye, 
genteelly persisting in his superior talents, and 
continually reminding one of the special advantages 
of dealing with him, will at last force you into 
noticing him and purchasing his wares; while the 
man of equal parts, in every sense, who retreats 
into some obscure corner and folds his arms in 
complacent humility, you seldom hear of and never 
think of patronizing. 

The man engaged in a business that the people 
never hear of would be in no worse predicament 
if he had no business. Not that the people want 
to neglect unobtrusive merit; but, in the rush and 
roar of these times, a man must get on an eminence 
and blow a loud trumpet if he would be heard 
and seen. The people are so busy they have no 
time to hunt up retreating merit. Indeed, they have 
no disposition to do so. The practical world takes 
it for granted that an article of merit will be duly 



TURNING POINTS. 341 

announced. As society is now organized, a man 
must live up to his business; he must "point the 
toe," wear a seasonable hat, hold his head high, 
wear fashionable clothes, and court the attention 
of the world. 

Men who are simply forward and impudent do 
not get on well. They may ride the tide for one 
day ; but as sure as to-morrow comes, their worth- 
lessness will be exploded, and they will sink deeper 
than if they had never risen at all. It is a common 
thing for those who fail to sneer at those who 
succeed, and say that nothing but "brass" did it. 
Now, brass doubtless had something to do with it, 
but not all. It is simply impossible for a man 
possessing brazen-facedness alone to arrive at emi- 
nence in these days. Do not attempt to persuade 
yourself that puffing alone will carry you to your 
goal. It will doubtless bring the eye of the world 
upon you ; but when you enter upon the perform- 
ance, should you fall short of your lofty proclama- 
tions, you have but sounded the trumpet for an 
awful rout. 

Without true merit no man can hope to succeed. 
There must be a basis of character and force, or 
else all advertisement will fail of good result. But 
merit is a fruitless thing if it goes unheralded. 
Merit is too often inactive. Well-matured and well- 
disciplined talent is always sure of a market, provided 
it exerts itself; but it must not cower at home and 
expect to be sought for. "It usually happens that 
those favored men have that valuable quality of 



342 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

promptness and activity without which worth is a 
mere inoperative property." The business of the 
world stands in need of merit, and its interests 
suffer every day, because it comes not forward. If 
upstarts and charlatans are to be made to keep 
their places, men of merit must discern the signs of 
the times, and go forward with promptness and 
decision, when ability is called for. 

A certain amount of self-advertising is essential, 
to inspire a man with proper confidence in himself, 
and in his work. A man unimpressed with his own 
worth, or the dignity of his calling, is apt to retire 
to the chimney corner, and feel that the world fails 
to appreciate him. It may be true that the world 
does not appreciate him, but has he ever showed 
his veins of gold to the world ? The acres that 
cover the Comstock lode would bring no more on 
the market than any other barren mountain tract,, 
if the wealth beneath had not been announced. 
Many men have a rich lode for the world, but they 
stay so close in their closets that a " prospector " 
can never get within reach of them. 

Conscious of your "undeveloped worth, set a good 
price on it. Reverence yourself as able to fill a 
high niche in the temple of your calling. Never 
wait for the world to call you byname. No matter 
whether your name is Smith, or Jones, or Don 
Souza de CabraL The world wants a man. If it is 
your pursuit, sound the charge, and rush to the 
work with all the alacrity, decision, tact, and self- 
confidence that a man ought to feel, knowing that 



TURNING POINTS, 343 

he has been set apart, from the foundation of the 
world, for this very purpose. 

Be prompt, then, whenever the crisis arrives. The 
man who springs into the " imminent deadly breach " 
at that moment will carry off the laurels. No 
matter what the obstacles may be, they must be 
charged with determination, and carried, or you are 
defeated. " Sire, General Clarke can not combine 
with General Junot, for the dreadful fire of the 
Austrian battery." " Let him carry the battery." 
" Sire, every regiment that approaches that heavy 
artillery is sacrificed. Sire, what orders ? " " For- 
ward, forward!" The sullen "forward," was given 
along the line. The solid columns moved up amid 
the whirl of smoke and death ; the battery was 
taken, and the battle won. 

Marshal your forces with vigor and skill, and 
plant them in the front with a wise ingenuity. 
Know yourself, and study the world. Be ready for 
that you are equipped for, and plunge into it like 
a diver into the waters. Society is on the alert 
for full-orbed men. There is a lull and a lee-wind 
for every one to seize, if he will only be on the 
watch. Those electric men who have taken the 
world by surprise have achieved their victories in 
these salient moments. Many of them have relied 
on recurring crises and their skill to direct them 
for their success. Such a one said, " Conquest has 
made me what I am, and conquest must maintain 
me!" 




KBUlsflotoet. 



The world is a nettle; disturb it, it stings; 
Grasp it firmly, it stings not. One of two things, 
If you would not be stung, it behooves you to settle: 
Avoid it, or crush it. 

— Owen Meredith. 

The truest wisdom is a resolute determination. — Napoleon. 

This is the riddle of existence — read it. — Werner. 

Let the free, reasonable Will which dwells in us, as in our 
holy of holies, be indeed free, and obeyed like a divinity, as is 
its right and its effort. — Carlyle. 

"I came; I saw; I conquered." 





CHAPTER XVI. 



WILL-POWER. 



ONDROUS is the nature of the will! By 
the decision of the Deity, it is as sovereign 
in the creature as in the Creator. Every where 
and always it is the province of will to designate 
and direct its own acts. True, there are powers 
that affect the will — motives, such as counsel, 
reason, desire, or passion — and yet, such is its 
autocratic nature, it often pushes every thing aside 
and acts independently of all. 

Will-power is indispensable to success ; no great- 
ness is attained without it. A superior measure of 
it is worth more to one than the most opulent 
gifts of genius. Some of the most potent spirits 
that ever peered through flesh have been rendered 
effete and useless for lack of this one element. To 
the man of vigorous will, there are few impossi- 
bilities. Obstructions melt before his fiat like 
spring snowflakes. There is a coarse, iron strength 
in his movement that breaks its way like an 
elephant in a jungle. His " no" falls on you like a 

345 



346 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

thunderbolt, while his "yes" is as a quick whistle 
to clear the way for the engine. You feel that this 
man is no food for sloth or snail. This, you say, 
is virility with a surplus. The man is made of 
better stuff than the events and things he encoun- 
ters. He is, as Emerson would say, a causationist. 
Power flows from him like a river. 

The man who says, "111 find a way or make 
one," generally finds a way. It was quite character- 
istic of the old Scandinavians that their crest should 
bear a god with a hammer in his hand. The speech 
of one Norseman gives the spirit of all the Norse- 
men of that day: "I believe neither in idols nor 
demons," said he. " I put my sole trust in my own 
strength of body and soul." Impediments are often 
but the goblins of our own imagination. When 
we insist upon a surrender we find no one to 
answer. We should have searched within. Let 
action be enstamped with emphasis. It is a starving 
process to chew the husk of defeat and apathy when 
we might pluck the fruit of conquering endeavor. 

When we observe how little genius has performed, 
in comparison with what we have been taught to 
expect of it, and how far mediocrity has surpassed 
our expectations, we are forced to conclude that a 
great share of man's strength lies in his indomi- 
table determination. Lafayette twice had it in his 
power to save France from the throes of civil war, 
but so singularly infirm of purpose was he that 
all his patriotism effervesced in manifestoes. No 
heaven-born inspiration lit up the pages of Buffon 



WILL -POWER. 347 

or Southey. No great genius drove Burke to the 
front rank of English statesmen. Every inch of 
headway made by Disraeli was by sheer force of 
will. It was thus Cyrus W. Field laid the cable; 
thus Newton conquered the heavens, and thus 
Frederick attained unto the leadership of the 
European kings. It was a will that would admit 
no hand to rise between it and its cherished 
object, and a soul that would not spare itself in 
the most toilsome drudgery. 

Unusual talents have never been ascribed to 
Washington, but he had that which was more 
effective — will-power and self-assertion, They won 
for his people the prize of every patriot's ambition 
— a free country. Without these neither the elo- 
quence of Patrick Henry, the gifted pen of Tom 
Paine, nor all the variety of Franklin's genius could 
conquer it. The most hero-worshiping of the 
coming ages will not ascribe brilliancy to General 
Grant; but they will record for him a coolness of 
head and inflexibility of purpose that would win 
his end if it took all summer. They may grant 
brilliancy to McClellan; intrepidity to Sherman; 
but the awful force of character that finds a way 
or makes it, will be given to Grant. 

There is a broad difference between mere wishes 
and desires, and the intrepid force that carries one 
triumphantly over every opposition. This wishing 
and expecting — this "gold-blossom" age of young 
men — must be got beyond before they come to 
the layer of metal that makes manhood. How 



348 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

many are deceived into accepting these flashier 
metals for the sterner stuff of life. "When a pur- 
pose is once formed it must be carried out with 
alacrity and without swerving." A man needs to 
feel about a thing he desires to do, as did Byron, 
whose soul was being consumed by his ambition 
to be a great poet. "I must write," he said," or I 
would go mad." When a desire swells up in the 
soul until it must out into action or the man is in 
danger, he is then prepared to accomplish some 
noble work. Will-power is never fully aroused from 
its lair until such a fine frenzy has seized upon 
the man. 

A man of weak will can never be a great man. 
He may be surrounded by wealth, and bolstered 
by inherited position, as Charles II, but he can never 
be great. Greatness is within. To how high a 
degree will-power may be cultivated remains a 
problem. But it can be cultivated to a respectable 
standard. One of the most pitiable objects in life 
is a man who has come to the conclusion that he 
can not will. His destiny is an elected failure; his 
character is broken; every man becomes his potter, 
and he is every man's clay. But no man need 
despair because his resolutions have thus far 
appeared weak. Some of the *■ most frail and 
vacillating of men, like Charles XII of Sweden, 
have, when awful necessity presented its visage, 
thrown off their former selves and risen inlo char- 
acters of steel. 

It is hard to tell the difference between a poor 



WILL -POWER. 349 

vessel and a o-ood one m f a { r weather; but when 
the storm comes it will soon make known to the 
passengers the worth of their craft. So, while one 
has father, or uncle, or friends to clear his path of 
every obstacle and help him carry his load, the 
force of his character is not known. When, how- 
ever, he is left to help himself, and the waves of 
competition begin to crush in his sides, he will 
manifest his strength or weakness. However feeble 
the will may have appeared at former times, the 
realization that he must now rely on self, becomes 
a bulwark of strength. And the character is a frail 
one indeed that is not revolutionized by this new 
order of things, and does not signalize it by passing 
into a nobler life. 

The man whose will-power is not marked, or is 
undeveloped, will often find a saving virtue in his 
pride of character. Nothing can sting some men 
into unconquerable determination sooner than out- 
raged pride. Men of vast capabilities are often 
like the elephant, which trudges quietly along the 
way with its head down, willing to take second 
best in every thing until somebody insults him ; 
then he wakes up, and one blow sends the insulter 
to the dust. So these humble-minded giants, under 
the lash of pride, call up the latent powers of their 
natures, and at once become the lords of their 
fellows. A taunt sent Byron on his travels, and 
made him a great poet ; and a similar thing 
spurred Nelson to be the hero of Trafalgar. 

After all the other quickening powers have 



350 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

exhausted themselves, failure has perhaps been the 
most potent of all causes in developing force of 
character. It seems strange that the materials for 
success are oftener molded out of disaster than 
triumph. Dr. Holland wrote in Bitter-Sweet: 

" Life evermore is fed on death, 
In earth, or air, or sky : 
That a rose may breathe its breath, 
Something must die." 

So it is with many men — that they may live, they 
must die ; that they may learn how to triumph, 
they must serve an apprenticeship at defeat. Robes- 
pierre failed so egregiously in his first speech that 
his friends counseled him to retire from the ros- 
trum. Indeed, after repeated efforts, his failures 
were so disheartening that it was said there was 
" not another Frenchman but would have com- 
mitted suicide." Robespierre felt the weight of his 
situation deeply ; his cheeks became pale, his eye 
lost its luster, and he was well nigh thrown into a 
fever; but with each failure, as his pulse and repu- 
tation went down, his determination went up, and 
it is doubtful, if he had not possessed the "humili- 
ation of confused ideas" and a hesitating tongue, 
whether he would have risen to the leadership of 
the National Assembly of France. 

The world's most famous generals have not been 
the most uniformly victorious. Clive was not; 
Washington was not; neither was Caesar. Blucher 
lost nine battles out of ten ; but his marvelous 



WILL-POWER. 351 

energies rose superior to disaster, and his sullen 
phalanx presented to the victorious enemy a more 
deadly front on the morrow than ever before. 
Suwarrow, that intrepid little soul of Russia, who 
kicked the silk upholstery out of his room in Berlin, 
and ordered the courtiers to bring him some straw 
and a blanket for his bed, suffered vast numbers 
of defeats, but always proved himself a greater 
general than his victor, for he conquered his mis- 
fortunes. To one that failed in life and complained 
of it, he said : " You can but half will." There is no 
such word as failure in the vocabulary of the men 
whose determination rises in proportion to the 
extent of their disasters. 

But we are now to notice a rout in which there 
is neither promise nor possibility of victory, though 
the genius of a Blucher or a Suwarrow be present 
to supervise it. We refer to the destruction of the 
will-power by stimulants. Not until lately has it been 
prominently enforced by our physiologists that all 
volition whatsoever is reduced to a condition of 
paralysis by the chronic use of intoxicants. To 
sustain and exhibit this fearful fact we quote from 
no less an authority than Carpenter. This author 
avers that "it is perfectly clear that this disturbance 
of purely psychical action, affecting not merely 
what may be regarded as the functions of the 
brain, but the exercise of that attribute of mans 
nature which seems most strongly indicative of a 
power beyond and above it, is produced by agencies 
purely physical. For it is not only that the balance 



352 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

between the automatic activity of the brain and the 
directing and controlling power of the will is dis- 
turbed by the exaltation of the former, so as to 
give it a predominance over the latter. On the 
contrary, the absolute weakening of volitional control 
is clearly a primary effect of these agencies: being 
as strongly manifested when the automatic activity 
(as often happens) is reduced, as when it is augmented. 
And this weakening is still more obvious when, not 
merely the quality of the blood, but the nutrition 
of the brain, has been deteriorated by the pro- 
longed action of 'nervine stimulants;' the will 
becoming, as it were, paralyzed, so that the mental 
powers are not under its command for any exertion 
whatever, while even its controlling power over 
bodily movements may be greatly diminished." — 
Mental Physiology, page 636. 

Now, if this be so (and we have not the temerity 
to dispute Dr. Carpenter), it is in vain for a man 
to seek for mastery in business or in any thing 
else while making a friend of the bottle. Every 
other element of manhood treated in this book 
goes overboard with the will. What are perse- 
verance, or aim, or self-reliance, or self-assertion, or 
any thing without will? We simply cite you to the 
very highest authority on the laws of mind, and he 
says, if you would hold your place in the world as a 
man, you must avoid all alcoholic drinks — all stim- 
ulants and opiates. 

There never was a time when invincible will was 
so necessary to success as in this century. Every 



WILL-POWER. 353 

vocation advertises for herculean laborers. Enter 
the lists wherever you may, you will find giants 
stripped for the contest. The conflict is not only 
a severe one, it is largely one of endurance. Men 
who have written their names high have been 
content to labor and to wait. Their philosophy 
has always sought within themselves for the cause 
of their slow advancement. They felt that their 
opportunities were as good as those of others, and 
that the world was doing them justice, but they 
had not yet done themselves justice. 

More preparation was needed, and longer appli- 
cation. No great thing is, or can be, done without 
these in a large degree. Friends, learning, oppor- 
tunity, are all valuable, but they are as nothing 
without burning enthusiasm that will not cool, and 
a living conviction, like Vallandigham's, that you 
can not die, for your mission is not fulfilled. Take 
those dull-eyed, listless, indifferent men — bankrupts 
— who once had a hope in life, but are now drag- 
ging through a miserable existence — those who are 
proverbially dissatisfied with all the world — and 
they have lacked enthusiasm, endurance and will. 

Every man suffers who has a want supplied before 
it is consciously felt. Where every want is antici- 
pated, where every possible desire is courted, and 
where every side of the many-sided nature is filled 
to surfeit, there is no room given for natural develop- 
ment, and no opportunity for vigorous growth. To 
this stuffing process of home and school must the 
charge of failure in many lives be laid. Over-care 
23 



354 SUCCESS Itf LIFE. 

sates and enervates. The boy who can get only 
half the clothes he wants, who can go to only half 
the places he wants to, who has only half the money 
he needs, who has only half the college years he 
feels he must have, will find in this plenitude of 
wants a stimulus that will carry him to noble 
achievements ; and the youth who has all these 
provided before he ever feels the sting of want, 
has the greatest incentive to action plucked out of 
his life. 

Look at Warren Hastings. He sprang from an 
ancient and illustrious race, but in infancy he was 
left dependent upon a distressed grandparent. 
Clothed in peasant's garb, the daily sight of the 
lands which his ancestors possessed, and which had 
passed into the hands of strangers, filled his young 
brain with wild projects. " He loved to hear stories 
of the wealth and greatness of his progenitors, of 
their generous housekeeping, their loyalty, and their 
valor. On one bright summer day, the boy, then 
seven years old, lay on the bank of the rivulet 
which flows through the old domain of his house 
to join the Isis. There, as three score and ten 
years later he told the tale, rose in his mind a 
scheme which, through all the turns of his eventful 
career, was never abandoned : he would recover the 
estate which had belonged to his fathers — he would 
be Hastings of Daylesford. 

This purpose, formed in infancy and poverty, grew 
stronger as his intellect expanded and his fortune 
rose. He pursued his plan with that calm but 



WILL -POWER. 355 

indomitable force of will which was the most strik- 
ing peculiarity of his character. When, under a 
tropical sun, he ruled fifty million Asiatics, his 
hopes, amid all the cares of war, finance and legis- 
lation, still pointed to Daylesford. And when his 
long public life, so singularly checkered with good 
and evil, with glory and obloquy, had at length 
closed forever, it was to Daylesford that he retired 
to die. 

The world owes the brilliant career of Frederick 
the Great to the ill treatment he received from his 
unnatural father. Up to the age of twenty, his 
father beat him cruelly, then pursued him through 
manhood, imprisoned him, exiled him, condemned 
him as a deserter, and sentenced him to death. 
Finally the old king's tyranny culminated by offer- 
ing Frederick freedom and money if he would 
renounce all. right to the throne. He had suffered 
enough, and he indignantly replied : " I accept, if 
my father will declare that I am not his son." He 
ascended the throne without governmental culture 
or the respect of his subjects. His heart was 
chilled; he had not a friend; he did not even love 
his wife; he listened to no counsel; he was cabinet, 
constitution and state ; he was transformed into a 
mighty despot, whose sole thought was the aggran- 
dizement of Prussia. 

Never did neglect and the pressure of want so 
transform a rhapsodical voluptuary. He at once 
broke the " Pragmatic Sanction," hurled his troops 
against Maria Theresa, overrun Silesia, and before 



356 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Europe could overcome her astonishment at the 
audacity of the pretense, returned to Berlin a con- 
queror. The following spring he sallied to Mollwitz. 
A battle was fought and won, but the doughty 
Frederick couldn't stand the smell of gunpowder 
and the whiz of bullets, He so far lost his self- 
command as to gallop six miles from the scene 
of action. 

It seemed that he was without genius or tact, and 
was compelled to learn every thing he undertook. 
He was a willing student. He now set out to learn 
the art of war, and study the wants of his 
people. He was soon menaced by three powers, 
with six hundred thousand troops, while he was able 
to put but one hundred and sixty thousand men into 
the field. But his will could supply the deficit, and 
in an instant the rich electorate of Saxony was 
overflowed by sixty thousand Prussian troops, filled 
with the energies of their king, who had set his face 
against all Europe, and, single-handed, was hewing 
his way to real greatness. 

Through four defiles in the mountains the Prus- 
sians came pouring into Bohemia. On the sixth 
of May was fought, under the walls which, a hun- 
dred and thirty years before, had witnessed the 
victory of the Catholic league and the flight of the 
unhappy Palatine, a battle more bloody than any 
which Europe saw during the long interval between 
Malplaquet and Eylau. The personal valor of 
Frederick had grown since Mollwitz, for he was 
everywhere present in the thickest of the fight, 



WILL-POWER. 357 

animating his troops, directing the charges, and 
anon grasping a gun from the hand of a soldier 
and leveling it at the enemy. His character for 
personal courage was reestablished. 

The dearly-bought victory was followed by defeats 
on every hand. His capital was pillaged and burned. 
The crops of his territory had failed. His people 
were discontented and starving; his own kinsmen 
were rebellious, and his officers could not act in 
concert for their rivalries. Never was king plunged 
in deeper gulf of disaster not to be overwhelmed. 
But dire necessity was the only power that could 
create will and genius for this monarch. Twenty 
hours out of twenty-four he now spent in studying 
tactics and in reorganizing his scattered forces. 
When fall came the net seemed to have closed 
completely around him. The Russians were spread- 
ing devastation through his eastern provinces. 
Silesia was overrun by the Austrians. A great 
French army was advancing from the west. Fred- 
erick extricated himself from his triangular trap 
with dazzling glory, in thirty days. At Breslau he 
met the last of the mighty powers that were pitted 
against him. His coolly-conceived plans, his adroit 
maneuvers and the awful charge of his squadrons 
were never more effective than on this day. He 
had now triumphed over three powers, the weakest 
of which had more than three times his resources. 
He returned to his capital confessedly the greatest 
general of the age. 

Frederick returned to a triumphant but bankrupt 



358 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

nation. He at once addressed himself to the 
necessities of his people. Taxes were remitted in 
the most distressed provinces. The pay of all state 
officers became nominal, and the court was con- 
ducted with the most rigid economy, Frederick 
himself being the most frugal of all the household; 
and when he came to be buried, he was clothed 
in the shirt of his valet, for he had not a decent one 
of his own. 

Whenever a man is thus willing to leave luxury 
and ease, and be willing to grow into success 
through the toilsome process of defeat and expe- 
rience, he may safely put his aim very high, for he 
has a force of character that will surely drive him 
to ultimate greatness. 

The school of adversity develops the highest 
types of manhood. The nation, or the work such 
an one leaves, is grounded upon a sure foundation. 
The men who flash up like corruscating sky-rockets, 
generally fall, and their work with them, as rapidly 
as they have risen. This is a meteoric age. Men 
feel they must bound to success in a day, or they 
will never make a creditable showing. It is true 
some men, like Jim Fisk and Ralston, flash though 
the universe as though astride of a comet. But, by 
the flickering light of their sparks as they go out 
of the world, is to be seen a broken bank or an 
insolvent railroad. It is best not to accept as 
models of will-power the men who are stunning 
the world by their dashing achievements, but to 
take those men of solid character, who are cool 



WILL-POWER. 359 

and self-reliant, who never lose their grip on their 
ultimate aim, and who do more for themselves than 
nature has ever done for them. 

In connection with will-power one needs a willing- 
heart. No matter to what task one goes, if he does 
not carry a willing heart into it, he will find his 
labor given for failure and discontent. Drafted 
men may be as well drilled and courageous, but 
they never gain as splendid victories as the volun- 
teers. A cheerful, hearty espousal of the cause in 
hand blows the flame of determination to a white 
heat. There may be some hope for a man who 
actually and earnestly works, even though he dis- 
likes his calling. But his hope should be limited, 
for his success can only be moderate. 

Look at Sidney Smith. What genius and talent 
he possessed. But, buried in Yorkshire, a poor 
parish priest, he disliked his situation, and though 
he resolved to like it, and honestly strove so to do, 
yet the discontent was never fully lifted from his 
heart; and the intellect that could have irradiated 
the world was stunted, and but half did its work. 
Patrick Henry disliked every thing into which he 
drifted or his father drove him, until he happened 
on to the law. There love and capacity met, and 
he was a made man. Samuel Drew was appren- 
ticed to a shoemaker, and lived, as he said, " like 
a toad under a harrow." He was so dissatisfied 
with life that he determined to become a pirate 
and smuggler. But this same Drew lived to be an 
eminent minister and a great author. The force 



360 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

of will that would run the hazard of smuggling, 
or pound shoe leather all night that he might 
" run " all day, when directed to something that 
filled his heart with aspiration, and was congenial 
to his tastes, enabled him to work with an enthu- 
siasm that knew no abatement, and permitted him 
to close his life in peace, plenty, and honor. Cul- 
tivate your will-power, uniting to it a burning 
enthusiasm for your calling, because it is a noble 
and worthy calling, and because you feel that you 
can do by and for it what no one has ever done before. 





fflgailliam S. (fatten*. 



" The uncleared forest, the unbroken soil, 
The iron bark that turns the lumberman's ax, 
The rapid that o'erbears the boatman's toil, 
The prairie, hiding the mazed wanderer's tracks, 

"The ambushed Indian, and the prowling bear — 
Such were the needs that helped his youth to train: 
Royal culture — but such trees large fruits may bear, 
If but their stocks be of right girth and grain." 




CHAPTER XVII. 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 



OHILLIAM G. GREENE was born in the 

ygllfjl state of Tennessee, January 27, 181 2. His 
youth was not to be distinguished from that of other 
men, except in his occasional exhibitions of "grit." 
The family residence was situated on a spur of the 
Cumberland Mountains, and was approached by the 
ordinary dug-out road, over ledges of rock, the fall 
from one to another of these sometimes being two 
feet. 

When William was nine years old his father 
determined to move to Illinois, and to this end 
purchased a wagon. In that region wagons were 
rare, hauling being done almost universally on sleds. 
This one was in the full style of those days — scoop 
bed, and stiff tongue, with a long chain at the end to 
fasten to the horse-collar. 

The wagon was with difficulty brought up the 
steep grade, and landed with much ceremony at 
the top, in front of the house. The children dashed 

out to see the wonder. Some of them climbed upon 

363 



364 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

the wheels, and a larger one got behind to see if he 
could push it. It started down the road. William 
caught hold of one of the tongue-chains and yelled, 
"Whoa!" but it refused to stop. He squared 
himself back and called on his brothers to " hold 
on," but they had let go. Going over the first 
ledge, the little fellow was jerked off his feet, and 
away went the wagon down the steep grade, jump- 
ing the offsets and tearing along the declivity with 
increased velocity at every bound of the wheels. 

At the foot of the mountain, the tongue struck 
a tree and broke in two, the wagon careering on. 
By the time the frightened family reached the spot, 
William was picking himself up from the foot of 
the tree, his clothes all stripped from him, and his 
breast and limbs bruised and bleeding. " Where is 
the wagon?" shouted the father. "I don't know," 
said the boy, "but here's what I had a hold of" — 
holding up the chain and the broken end of the 
tongue. " Billy," said the mother, "why didn't you 
let go?" "Why, mother, I was a-goin' to hold on 
if it killed me. If I'd a let it got away, we'd never 
got to Ellinoy." 

General Sheridan exhibited a similar instance of 
pluck when he was only five years of age. Mrs. 
Stowe says that, having been put upon a spirited 
horse by some mischievous mates, the horse ran 
away to a tavern some miles off. He stuck fast 
to the horse, though without saddle or bridle, and 
without size or strength to use them if he had 
them. It was a mere chance that he arrived safe, 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 365 

and, when lifted off by the sympathizing inmates of 
the inn, the little fellow admitted that he was 
shaken and sore with the ride, but he added, " I'll 
be better to-morrow, and then Til ride back." 

These instances possess no importance within 
themselves, but they show a constitutional deter- 
mination to stick to a thing once begun, and an 
utter absence of fear. This faculty, which never 
takes danger into account, and never tries to keep 
at a distance from it, is as valuable in commerce 
as on the field. Its full possession is quite uncom- 
mon. Nelson possessed it to a very high degree. 
The future victor of Trafalgar, when a mere child, 
had strayed away from home, and got lost. When 
found and taken home, a relative remarked, " I 
should think that fear would keep you from going 
so far away." "Fear?" said the young gentleman, 
quite innocently — "Fear? I don't know him." 

If you had been at the forks of the old Salem 
road about daybreak, on a certain morning in the 
Spring of 1830, you could have seen another speci- 
men of this boy's decisiveness. Astride of a grist 
of corn, on the faithful family mare, crowned with 
brimless hat and clothed in homespun, he was 
hurrying to the Salem mill to secure the first 
"turn." You might have suspected, by the twinkle 
of his eye, that there was fun and sagacity there, 
but you would never have imagined that that boy 
would one day become a builder of railroads, one 
of the foremost financiers in his state, and a suc- 
cessful manager in nominating a National President. 



SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

As he rode along, trying to get to mill before 
the sun rose, thoughts were pouring through his 
mind of coming schemes in business, and then 
dying away again for want of words to bring them 
into expression. That boy was William G. Greene, 
now eighteen years of age — the period at which 
most young men are pretty well through with their 
college course and passing into cultured society. 
He, however, had possessed but the rude advantages 
of the winter district school, so characteristic of 
those days, and was still striving to content himself 
with the linsey-wolsey society of the backwoods. 

Just before Greene reached Salem, a man dashed 
past him, and stopped at the " store." It proved to 
be Reuben Radford, the proprietor. The " Clary's 
Grove Boys," an organized band of desperadoes, had 
taken possession of the store the night before, during 
Radford's absence, and in their drunken melee had 
left its contents in hopeless confusion. Greene 
arrived in time to hear Radford exclaim : " I'll sell 
this thing to the first man that makes me a bid." 
Greene rode up to the solitary window, and, sticking 
his head through a broken pane, took a hasty glance 
at the state of affairs, and said, " I'll give you four 
hundred dollars for it." The offer was at once 
accepted ; and the penniless boy, who had never 
made a trade before, walked into the store and 
signed a note, payable in six months. 

Naturally enough, after the purchase of the store, 
Greene was anxious to know the exact worth of the 
stock. Abraham Lincoln, who was boarding in the 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 367 

log hotel across the street, assisted him in the 
inventory, and at sun-down their books revealed 
eight hundred dollars' worth of goods left from the 
raid. Berry and Lincoln offered Greene a four- 
hundred-dollar note, two hundred and sixty-five 
dollars in cash, and a fine horse, for his store. With 
the celerity of his morning decision, Greene accepted 
it By moonlight he mounted his horse, and with a 
new hat on his head and two-hundred and sixty-five 
dollars jingling in his pockets, the mill-boy of the 
morning galloped home a retired merchant. 

His two most intimate friends, from this time 
forward, were Abraham Lincoln and Richard Yates. 
But the poetical temperament of Yates and the 
statesmanlike turn of Lincoln, exercised no influence 
on Greene's choice of a life calling. " Nature made 
you boys for lawyers," he would say, " but she built 
me for business. You will both become great in 
your professions, but, were I to go with you, I would 
make a failure." There seems, at no time in life, 
to have been the least desire of relinquishing his 
chosen path. Lincoln,, while in the presidency, 
sought to give him an important political position, 
but he steadfastly refused it. Only once did he 
accept an office, and then it was for the good of 
his state. As soon as the crisis was past he 
retired. 

On Greene's return home with his day's profits, 
he entered the family room, and, striding over the 
carpetless floor, he uncovered the coals in the 
fireplace, and began piling on the morning kindlings. 



368 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

" What you burnin' them kindlin's fur?" exclaimed his 
father, waking from his slumbers; "clear out and go 
to bed, you rascal, you." Here Greene purposely 
dropped a few fifty-cent pieces on the hearth. The 
old gentleman cried to his wife, " Liz., this is what 
comes of givin' that boy so much larnin'. I've always 
been warnin' you he'd do somethin' bad." Greene 
poked the fire to a brighter blaze, and dropped some 
more fifty-cent and five-franc pieces on the floor. 
" Go to bed, you rascal, you !" exclaimed the outraged 
father again, and turned himself out on to the side 
of the bed. Billy said nothing, but poked the fire 
again, and rolled some more money on to the floor. 
The father's curiosity now fully aroused, he cried, 
"What's that you're a doin' there, Bill?" For the 
first time the boy spoke : " I've sold the store, father, 
and this is a part of the profits." The father reached 
his hand round under the pillow, where he kept an 
old Virginia twist, exclaiming, " I guess I'll take a 
chaw." Here a double-handful of silver came out, 
and went rolling over the floor. " Crackens!" cried 
the old man, and he dashed on to the floor and 
began to gather up the straggling dollars. Out 
came some more. "Jerusalem! Here, mother, get 
up, and get this little feller a warm supper ; he's 
done the best day's work he ever done." 

Lincoln was always fond of referring to this 
incident. When Greene was visiting him toward 
the close of the war, he congratulated Mr. Lincoln 
on the important place he was destined to fill in 
his country's history. "Yes," said Mr. Lincoln, "if 




****>- -Pi*. 



Co. J-hUadafhia. 





WILLIAM G. GREENE. 369 

I close this business up satisfactorily, I'll have a 
'warm supper;' but if not, it will be, 'go to bed, 
you rascal.'" 

A strong natural bias for any particular calling 
is not always manifested in youth. But when this 
natural predilection is exhibited, it becomes the 
sign-board of the life, and woe be to him who will 
not obey its pointing. The circumstances of a 
family, the ambition of a father, and the associa- 
tions of a youth, may completely hide from sight 
all the natural buddings of the life. It is possible 
to keep them forever suppressed; but it is done 
at a price that the subject can ill afford. The man 
who, under the family command, or any other 
cause, enters a calling for which nature has not 
designed him, may do well, and come to love it, 
but he is always pulling against the tide. When 
the boy West would rob hairs from the family cat 
for his brushes, he did not have to be driven to 
his painting. But Pascal was so averse to litera- 
ture, that his father was finally compelled to abandon 
his purpose in despair, and let him go to what he 
would. At sixteen he astounded the learned by a 
treatise on conic sections. 

So, in young Greene: when he broke the barriers 

that were thrown about him, Nature grasped at 

every opportunity to assert herself. Had not his 

predilections been so strong, his career would have 

been quite different. To his mother he owes more 

than to any other person. She it was who detected, 

in his early years, the aspirations of his heart and 
24 



370 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

gently nourished every rising impulse. Her sensitive 
nature was not in harmony with the rude ideas of 
frontier life, and she assiduously sought to give her 
culture and sentiments to her children. A mother's 
influence is lasting on a child, and as manifest when 
she sows the seeds of infamy as when she inculcates 
the highest virtues. Lamartine's life was rendered 
fickle and void by a mother's vain and affected 
behavior. The name of Nero would not stand as 
the synonym for cruelty and misrule, if a mother 
had not turned his footsteps in the way of poison 
and the sword. Was not great Byron's course made 
weak, vacillating and misanthropic by the teachings 
of a pampering mother? How sad this refrain: 

" Yet must I think less wildly ! I have thought 
Too long and darkly, till my brain became, 
In its own eddy boiling and o'erwrought, 
A whirling gulf of phantasy and flame; 
And thus, untaught in youth my heart to tame, 
My springs of life were poi sotted" 

The First Consul, when in conversation with 
Madame Necker, remarked: "France needs mothers!" 
A loving, caring mother — a thoughtful, moral mother 
— how much are children indebted to such! It was 
a mother's influence that gave the Wesleys to the 
world. Only a mother was able to control the frac- 
tious spirit of Bonaparte, and teach him the elements 
of obedience. Cromwell's biographer says that his 
mother possessed the glorious faculty of self-help 
when other assistance failed her ; that it was her 
training that made him the careful disciplinarian 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 371 

he was, through which he largely won his victories. 
In the palace of Whitehall, amid all her splendor, 
her only thought was for the safety of her son in 
his dangerous eminence. " It is quite true," said 
Joseph de Maistre, " that women have produced no 
chefs d'ceuvre. They have written no Iliad, nor 
Jerusalem Delivered, nor Paradise Lost, nor Tartuffe, 
nor Phaedrus, nor Hamlet; they have designed no 
Church of St. Peter, composed no Messiah, carved 
no Apollo Belvedere, painted no Last Judgment; 
they have invented neither algebra, nor telescopes, 
nor steam engines ; but they have done something 
far greater and better than all this, for it is at their 
knees that upright and virtuous men and women 
have been trained — the most excellent productions 
in the world." 

Reared in the newly-settled State of Illinois, 
Greene was debarred of those educational advan- 
tages which surround the youth of older commu- 
nities. But experience has demonstrated that 
college halls and adventitious circumstances are not 
always the forces most conducive to success. These 
advantages are to be coveted, but doubly strong is 
he who can rise without their aid. Without energy 
and tact, one can not rise under any surroundings. 
It is almost a truism, that success is the creature 
of energy and tact. Men may sometimes blunder 
into fame or fortune; but, unless they possess sterling 
qualities, the sequel of their lives is apt to prove 
that they were unworthily intrusted with its great 
advantages. Opportunities come to every man ; but 



372 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

only a few seize upon them, and rise with them to 
success. In great emergencies men spring to the 
front, and become leaders. It is not so much 
because their opportunities were greater, as that they 
possessed the qualities which, in all ages, have been 
recognized as the masters of success, and by which 
they were enabled to take advantage of that 

'* — tide in the affairs of men, 
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." 

These truths, which have been happily expressed 
in the saying, that " every man is the architect of 
his own fortune," are, perhaps, nowhere more decid- 
edly manifest than in new settlements. Here 
extrinsic aids are peculiarly absent. Family influence 
loses its power. Every man stands on his own 
merits. If any thing is accomplished, it must be by 
individual exertion. Add to this the rugged devel- 
opment of character by actual contact with hard- 
ships, the courage and confidence born of meeting 
obstacles and overcoming them, and we have the 
school in which the highest types of manhood have 
been developed. It was the training by which 
Abraham Lincoln rose from obscurity to eminence ; 
that gave us the " noble Romans ;" this that brought 
to the front England's best captains and statesmen ; 
this that has given to America the strong, manly 
characters of her history. And, profiting by this 
experience, William G. Greene has been enabled to 
imprint his name upon the annals of his state, as 
one deeply enlisted in her worthiest interests. 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 373 

In his early days there was but little money in 
the community. St. Louis, one hundred and twenty- 
five miles distant, was the onlv market for farm 
products. When going to market, to stop at the 
taverns for accommodation would have been to 
consume the pittance one received for his produce; 
hence the farmers of those days were accustomed to 
bivouac around camp-fires, and considered themselves 
fortunate if they could find a hollow log to turn 
in to. The earnings of a year were " sunk " in the 
pocket of the country merchant in many instances. 
It was the era of hog and hominy. "Dodgers" 
was the expressive title they gave their bread, 
based upon the indisputable fact that upon a cer- 
tain memorable occasion of connubial infelicity the 
"defenseless female" found them admirable substi- 
tutes for stones. Those who were so fortunate 
as to reside near streams, "jugged" for u cat." 
Mink and otter were the victims of their in^e- 
nious traps. Cucumbers, paw-paws, melons, and 
roasting-ears constituted their variety of fruits. 
Razor-backed swine filed through the thickets of 
black-jack, in all directions, too ordinary to require 
a brand and too lean to trail a shadow. Raffling 
for turkeys and the drinks was to them a popular 
pastime. The odds and ends of the hours were 
occupied in wrestling, jumping, or pitching quoits. 
Home-made jeans and linsey-woolsey were the court- 
dress, and a 'coon-skin cap the crowning piece of 
these pioneer kings. 

Such were the surroundings amid which Greene 



374 SUCCESS IF LIFE. 

had to educate himself for his life's work. Yet he 
found them sufficient, with his active mind, to form 
the basis of a solid and practical character. He 
was quick to grasp the intricacies of thought, and 
what he once learned was never forgotten. Lincoln 
was some three years older than Greene; but, so 
far as education was concerned, the latter had the 
advantage, for from him Lincoln learned his first 
lessons in grammar. 

In 1832, Greene laid aside his efforts for an 
education, and enlisted in the Black Hawk war. 
Lincoln was chosen captain of the company raised 
at Salem. They served their country for twenty 
days, but they were days characterized by hard- 
ships rather than glory. 

On Greene's return home, he became a student 
of Illinois College, at Jacksonville. Leaving home 
with twenty dollars in his pocket, and a homespun 
suit of clothes on his back, he determined to 
have an education if energy and economy could 
carry him through. He entered the industrial 
department, where students were paid eight to ten 
cents an hour for their labor. Here began a course 
of unflagging industry, which was increased rather 
than diminished, through the three years' course at 
this institution, and in which was laid the solid 
foundation of a liberal education. He worked every 
hour of the day not occupied by recitations, and 
pursued his studies far into the night. For Satur- 
day's work he would receive seventy-five cents. He 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 375 

prepared his own food, which cost him thirty-five 
cents a week ! 

He was not long in attracting the attention of 
Dr. Edward Beecher, then president of the school. 
His perfect lessons, his happy faculty of making 
clear the most puzzling problems, and his wonder- 
ful industry in working hours, caused Dr. Beecher 
to interview him on several occasions, for the pur- 
pose of having him enter the theological course, 
Beecher and Sturtevant promising to furnish him 
means to take him through to graduation. But he 
told them that the Lord had never called him to 
preach, and, moreover, he believed that in his case 
a self-earned education was essential to after success. 
He aimed to clear a little more money every day 
than he spent ; and so well had he employed his 
time that, when he left school at the end of three 
years, he had two good suits of " store clothes," 
eighty acres of land that he had entered, and sixty 
dollars in money — forty dollars more than he had 
left home with. 

To keep his expenses below his income, no matter 
how meager the income might be, has ever been a 
principle in Mr. Greene's life. He estimates that 
a hundred thousand dollars of his fortune has been 
accumulated by obeying the principles of economy, 
as set forth by Benjamin Franklin, in a little volume, 
for which he paid fifty cents. He could make money, 
but he did not know how to save it until he chanced 
upon this book. Largely through its influence he 



376 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

was induced to undertake his self-education. " The 
secret of all success," says Mrs. Oliphant, " is to know 
how to deny yourself. If you once learn to get the 
whip -hand of yourself, that is the best educator. 
Prove to me that you can control yourself, and I'll 
say that you're an educated man ; and without this, 
all other education is good for next to nothing." 

Economy does not demand any unusual intellect- 
ual endowments for its practice; only common 
sense and the power of resisting selfish enjoyments. 
It does not even call for any great exercise of the 
will ; it only asks a little patient self-denial. Yet 
how few can persuade themselves to practice this 
negative virtue. Because they will not, half the 
young men of the land enter business life in debt, 
and, once feeling straitened, foolish pride causes 
them to still further involve themselves, to keep up 
appearances, and under the lash of a " soul-eating 
interest," they are hounded through life, and die 
bankrupts. The youth whose energies are his 
only stock in trade, must keep his expenses below 
his income. The man who spends more than his 
income, is driving on to ruin, no matter if his income 
is ten thousand a year. The man who persists in 
spending less than his income, is making a financial 
success, no matter if his income , is but a dollar 
a day. Cicero averred that the best source of 
wealth was economy. 

Men who have made every dollar of their wealth 
know the toil and self-denial that the first thousand 
dollars cost. But it requires somewhat less effort to 



WILLIAM G, GREENE. 377 

make the next thousand, ana so on in a decreasing 
ratio, until money-getting is no longer a struggle. 
Getting a seed, and getting it started to grow — 
getting a few thousand dollars, and getting it so 
shaped that it will increase itself — is the crisis of 
financial life. The man who thinks more of the 
present than he does of the future, who thinks more 
of pleasure than he does of ultimate good, will never 
pass through the pinchings and sacrifices of this 
ordeal, and, beyond the merest chance, he is destined 
to live next door to poverty all his days. 

Realizing the worth of determined purpose, Mr. 
Greene has never permitted himself to trifle with 
this faculty, so fully given him by nature. He has 
studiously refused to engage in any enterprise which 
he thought he might, after a time, have a desire to 
relinquish, and has actually kept out of ventures 
bearing the element of uncertainty, because he knew 
that when his will was once fixed, it would drive 
him through the undertaking, no matter what the 
result might be. When he has once decided upon 
a scheme, he sets about its accomplishment with 
the cautious but restless tread of a lion on the path 
of its prey. Able to grasp long ranges of nicely- 
balanced contingencies in a trade, and jumping over 
the slow processes of logic, to exercise unerring 
judgment by intuition, he has seldom failed to 
prosecute any enterprise to a successful termination. 

A copy of the Life of Hannibal chanced to fall 
in his way, while he was yet a youth. Reading it, 
his soul fed upon the determined spirit of the 



378 SUCCESS IW LIFE. 

Carthaginian hero. He quickly came to the 
conclusion that Hannibal was the master general of 
the world, but that his giant determination was 
worth more than all his arts of war. He pored over 
this volume with a perfect rage of enthusiasm. 
Hannibal was enthroned as his model of will-force 
and self-reliance. His mother's careful training, and 
the invigorating example of this volume, were the 
two most potent agencies in molding him for the 
struggles of life. 

He cultivated will-power as the absolute necessity 
of a successful life, and, with Suwarrow, " preached it 
up as a system." He that valiantly enters life with 
wind and tide against him will find a "royal will" 
of more worth than a score of mere accomplishments. 
Scholarship, wealth, pedigree, circumstances, and 
even nature itself, must yield before indomitable 
will. By it Franklin was enabled to set political 
trickery at defiance, outwit the diplomats of 
England, and secure sympathy and aid for the 
struggling colonies. Lord Thurlow began his legal 
career with all the odds of established barristers and 
wealth- befriended young lawyers against a poverty- 
stricken and unknown youth ; by the " graces of 
his grit " he struck manly blows on the hard iron of 
public patronage, and eventually brought the nation 
to be his client. The bold and daring schemes of 
Commodore Vanderbilt would have often proved 
futile, had not his giant will backed them to success. 
Against the unequal odds with which Greene had 
to contend in his start in life, all his other virtues 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 379 

would have proved barren, had he not been blessed 
with that will which always makes a way. 

The mutual respect that was awakened between 
Greene and Lincoln on their first acquaintance, had 
steadily grown during the following six years, and 
had deepened and ripened into profound friendship. 
Mr. Lincoln was a man of broad moral nature. 
He was born with the ten commandments engraven 
on his heart. Greene naturally possessed great 
moral force ; but the influences that surrounded him 
on his way to manhood, added to his money-getting 
propensities, had caused him to indulge in gambling. 
Morally, Lincoln's influence was almost boundless 
over Greene, and on all matters of business Greene 
stood like an oracle to Lincoln. Greene was 
usually successful in his gaming, but he began to 
feel its taint reaching out through his commercial 
relations, and decided that it must be given up. 

There was a certain traveling gambler who had 
beaten him unfairly on a recent occasion, and he 
felt that he would be utterly ruined if he should 
quit, and leave the man on the "lead." He accord- 
ingly told Lincoln that he had resolved to quit 
gaming, but he couldn't think of it until he had 
got even with Jones. Lincoln was about as saga- 
cious in some of the queer ways of the settlement 
as Greene; and he offered to help him out of this 
difficulty, on the principle that, of two evils, it 
is best always to choose the least. "The next 
time Jones comes round," said Lincoln, "you bet 
him the silk hats for two, that there is a man 



380 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

here that can lift up a whisky barrel and drink 
out of the bung-hole." 

In a few days the victim came around, bantering 
for a game, when Greene made his offer on the 
agreed bet, which Jones quickly accepted. Lincoln 
was introduced from the next room; lifted one end 
of the barrel up on one knee, then lifted the other end 
up on the other knee, leaned over and drank out 
of the bung. Jones was astonished at his herculean 
strength, and then became enraged at the greater 
moral Hercules when he spit the liquor out, refusing 
to swallow it. Since that day Greene has not 
wagered a cent, nor in any way participated in a 
game of chance. 

Money gained by any game of chance seldom 
stays with a man, and it seldom has a man to stay 
with. A square and legitimate business is the only 
safe reliance. If fortune smiles on a gamester 
to-day, she will frown on him to-morrow and leave 
him fleeced. Beau Brummel started with a six- 
pence and bagged thousands ; but his luck turned, 
and the fortune went faster than it came. Charlie 
Robbins won at every table, and could guess to a 
vote the majority of the successful candidate. An 
evil genius then took hold of him. Judgment left 
him; nerve forsook him; his hand lost its cunning, 
and he was reduced to beg for bread. 

So we find the same rules working in the 
thing next akin to this — speculation. Ralston 
went to California in almost the character of 
an adventurer. His judgment on a trading 



WILLIAM G. QBEENE. 381 

venture became a Midas-like touch. Gold flowed 
into his coffers like harvest in the fabled land, 
where, instead of sowing or tilling, you have only 
to plunge in the sickle and reap. He entertained 
princes and financial magnates after a royal fashion. 
He took the chair of the Bank of California. He 
devised money schemes and manipulated them to 
a success that would have made Crcesus proud. But 
he missed his calculations once, then again, and 
again; then he went to the wall. His failure 
startled the community as an earthquake does a 
quiet land. The cause could not be understood. 
The whence and whither of his fortune was a 
mystery. 

In much the same way Daniel Drew was crushed. 
So, in Chicago, one can lay his fingers on a half 
dozen who have retired from luxury and affluence 
this very twelvemonth, for the same reasons. That 
which comes by speculation or by gaming is a result 
of chance ; no equivalent has been rendered for it ; 
no abiding law of commerce controlled it ; so, sooner 
or later, it goes as it came, and the penniless holder 
stands bewildered. But why should his downfall 
surprise him ? It was chance that brought it to him, 
and chance that claimed its own. 

In new settlements, ideas do not germinate so 
rapidly as in the crowded districts. In the cities, 
the masses will fight a new idea all day with the 
ferocity of tigers ; but at night they will go home, 
sleep over it, and to-morrow, two chances to three, 
they will come out to fight for it. Was not William 



382 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Lloyd Garrison once mobbed in Boston for attempt- 
ing to address the " Boston Female Anti-Slavery 
Society?" He was rushed by the mayor into a 
close carriage, the policemen yelling at the horses 
to hurry them on, and beating the mob with their 
clubs to hold them back. Lodged in a prison cell, 
Garrison wrote with his pencil on the wall : 

" William Lloyd Garrison was put into this cell 
on Wednesday afternoon, Oct. 21, 1835, to save him 
from the violence of a ' respectable and influential ' 
mob, who sought to destroy him for preaching the 
abominable and dangerous doctrine that 'all men 
are created equal,' and that all oppression is odious 
in the sight of God. ' Hail, Columbia ! ' Cheers 
for the Autocrat of Russia and the Sultan of 
Turkey!" 

In less than twenty years from that day, Boston 
was dangerously near mobbing a man who sought 
to preach against the " Boston Female Anti-Slavery 
Society." Did not our glorious old forefathers leave 
English church persecution, and flee to this country, 
where they could worship God according to the 
dictates of their own consciences ? Yet, within a 
hundred years they drove Roger Williams to the 
wilderness and to the savages, because he wanted 
to serve God the same way. The great revolution 
in Northern sentiment that was so agitating the 
New England States in 1835, was slow in making 
an impression on the Middle States. Springing 
from an old Tennessee family, Greene was intensely 
Southern in all his feelings. One night, at Illinois 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 383 

College, the debating- society discussed "the right 
of slavery." No one could be found to deny that 
right, except with the proviso that they did it for 
the debate's sake. 

The next day, Robert Patterson — the present Rev. 
Dr. Patterson, of Chicago — expressed his regret at 
being absent from the debate, and said he would 
have taken the negative. " I am opposed to slavery," 
he continued. " I believe it to be a sin, and God 
will yet curse this nation for the iniquity." Greene 
stood in mute astonishment before the audacious 
speaker and his revolutionary doctrine. The divinity 
of slavery had never been questioned in his presence 
before. His soul revolted at such political heresy, 
and yet he admired the boldness of his school-fellow. 
He has ever since watched the career of Dr. Patter- 
son with great interest. 

Jean Paul Richter says, when the thought broke 
upon him that he lived, he was overwhelmed by the 
fact. This thought that slavery might be on debat- 
able ground first caused W. G. Greene to think. 
The ages are very different when we begin to think. 
Richter says he could not remember the time when 
he began to think. Some begin at twenty, some 
at forty, and others never. Fortunate is that man 
through whose brain a red-hot bolt of doctrine in 
politics or religion, or in any thing, flies and flashes, 
causing him for all after life to think. 





CHAPTER XVIII. 

WILLIAM G. GREENE. 

[ CONTINUED.] 

'HEN once a man has become a thinker, half 
his danger from vice is averted, and half his 
moral character is made. Thought is the great 
moral anaesthetic. The thinkers are the moving 
powers in their community, with rare exceptions. 
A thoughtful man leaves vice and seeks virtue; 
hence, from its active character, moral association is 
more potent for good than corrupt association is for 
bad. Even those of bad habits love to be influenced 
by the thoughtful men. 

There are certain epochs in every man's life that 
are favorable to good resolutions. There are certain 
times when no one ought to frame resolutions. 
This is counter to the current of public sentimental- 
ism, which says it is always in order to do good. 
When a man is on the verge of bankruptcy; when 
every acre is mortgaged, and every bond is hypoth- 
ecated ; when ruin stares him in the face, and duns 

fall as thick as autumn leaves — that is no time to 

384 



WILLIAM a. GREENE. 385 

resolve that he will never go in debt again. The 
circumstances surrounding him are unfavorable to 
such resolutions ; it is an oath taken under duress. 
Wait until you are "released" from bankruptcy; 
then, when business is again commenced on a clean 
docket, with every thing to make and nothing to 
lose, register the resolution ; the surroundings are 
now favorable to its fulfillment. 

Dr. Howard said that, of three thousand patients 
dangerously ill, who promised to unite with the 
church if health should return, three kept their 
word. If the promises had been made at the 
proper time — in health — a fair per cent, would have 
been fulfilled. How many tipplers get on a melan- 
choly "drunk," and swear to drink no more? How 
many thieves, when flying before the sheriff, promise 
themselves to steal no more? How many men 
engage in excess, and, writhing under its cat-o'-nine- 
tails, declare that they will do so no more ? The 
failure in all these resolutions is, that they are not 
made at the right time. Solomon said, "There is 
a time for all things." There is a time to abstain 
from good resolutions. 

There comes a place, to every young man, where 
his road forks, one way leading to virtue, and the 
other off to vice. Up to that time, vice and virtue 
have been almost as one quality ; now, as his mind 
develops, and he steps into the struggles of life, they 
are as widely separate as the poles. He must bring 
his will-power to bear, and elect his path, or he will 
gravitate more to the wrong than to the right. It 
25 



386 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

was the old Greek sophist, Prodicus, who invented 
the fable of the Choice of Hercules. Tennyson has 
beautifully reproduced it. in lone CEnone, who tells 
"many-fountained " Ida of the choice of Paris, when 
he turned away from Athene with her wisdom, to 
'Aphrodite with her love. Pythagoras took the 
letter Y as the symbol of human life : 

" Et tibe, quae Samois didupit litera ramos." 

The stem of the letter denoted that part of human 
life in which character is still unformed ; the right- 
hand branch, the finer of the two, represents the 
path of virtue ; the other, that of vice. As one of 
the commentators says, " The fancy took mightily 
with the ancients." 

There is a clearly-defined turning-point in the life 
of every person. Having been brought to think for 
himself, and then of himself, Mr. Greene pursued the 
course of moralizing indulged in above, and, assisted 
by the grave counsels of his friend, he decided that, 
as manhood's years had now arrived, and he had 
finished school, and was on the threshold of the 
world, he must choose his course of action, and 
carve it out definitely, no matter what the after 
surroundings might be. He thereupon made his 
resolution concerning gaming, and decided that he 
would be a business man. And to help him keep 
his good resolutions, and assist him in his plans of 
thrift, he decided he ought to have man's balance- 
wheel — a wife. 

To engage in business for life, and to find a wife, 



WILLIAM G. GREENE.. 387 

he turned his thoughts to the south. He thought 
that for happiness, and for glory, there was no place 
like the " knobs " of old Tennessee. Accordingly, he 
took up his line of march for the south, where all 
his social and political affinities were. He arrived in 
Kentucky, without money and without friends, having 
his heart placed on a home of his own and an aim 
high in the financial world. He decided that he 
could teach school, and in a short time have money 
enough to start in business. Toward sunset one 
evening, from the top of a hill he espied a handsome 
country house, situated in a beautiful valley. Seeing 
a courtly-looking old gentleman on the piazza, he 
dismounted at the gate, and, approaching him, asked 
for a drink. A servant was sent to the spring on 
the hill-side for it. This gave Greene the opportu- 
nity he coveted. He sat down in a vacant chair, and 
poured out a stream of conversation that surprised 
and electrified his host. 

There was but little traveling in those days, and 
good company was scarce. Mr. Carpenter soon 
asked his visitor to stay all night. Greene shortly 
made known his business, and within an hour was 
employed as tutor in Mr. Carpenter's family. In a 
few months he moved on to Tennessee, and by his 
eminent success in a suburban school, soon became 
principal of the Priestly Academy. 

At this place he became acquainted with Miss 
Louisa H. White, who filled his ideal of womanhood. 
Perhaps the blind young god helped to make the 
decision — he usually does — at any rate, in the follow- 



SUCCESS IN LIFE. 



ing spring, Miss White became Mrs. Greene. Greene's 
cool and calculating nature had caused him to 
philosophize much on the value of a wife. He had 
long since come to the conclusion that the man who 
married well had secured half his fortune. A 
married life of forty years has, in his case, demon- 
strated the correctness of his philosophy. Many of 
the worlds successful men find themselves able to 
date their onward start from the day of their union 
to a loving, intelligent, common-sense woman. 

We hear much of the domestic infelicities of men 
of genius, such as Socrates, Dante, Milton, Mon- 
taigne, Moliere, Rousseau, Byron, Bulwer, and 
Dickens. With no class of men can an uncongenial 
alliance be conducive of happiness. Neither can it 
be said that the separations which some of these 
illustrious men have indulged in, have in anywise 
fired their genius into additional fame, or brought 
more gold to their coffers. 

Pitt sacrificed his own happiness, and tore out of 
his heart by the roots as pure a love as man ever 
entertained, because he felt that his ambition could 
win its height more surely in a single life. True, 
he won that for which he had staked all; but the 
celibacy and fame of Pitt, and Newton, and Locke, 
and Leibnitz, and Voltaire, and Hume, and Adam 
Smith, by no means prove it true that bachelorhood 
and eminence of life are necessarily joined. Buffon 
acknowledged his wife's influence over his compo- 
sitions, and said she helped to give him that which 
was his genius — his patience. The younger Pliny 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 389 

blessed Calphurnia, his wife, and asserted that her 
influence gave the world his books. Burke would 
rush like a madman from the worry of his office 
to his home, exclaiming: "Every care vanishes the 
moment I enter under my roof." And Luther, 
speaking of his wife, said : " I would not exchange 
my poverty with her for all the riches of Croesus 
without her." 

Would Andy Johnson have ever got beyond his 
"goose" without his wife? Did not Caesar fall when 
he threw aside his wife's entreaties ? And how many 
of Vanderbilt's millions were planned for, worked 
out, and husbanded by his "Sophy?" So, Greene, 
although a victim to love, felt, from the philoso- 
pher's stand-point, that he would be unequal to all 
the emergencies that business and morals would 
thrust upon him, without a wife. One of the ancient 
wits said that " The men ruled Rome, and the 
women ruled the men." Mr. Greene confesses that 
the affections and counsels of his wife, beyond what 
happiness they have inspired beneath their own 
roof, have largely molded his business character, 
and materially aided in rearing their fortune. 

Greene could no longer brook delay ; he moved 
to Memphis, and entered into business. His wife 
kept a boarding-house, and he opened a grocery- 
store in a shed room, fourteen feet square, adjoin- 
ing the dwelling. He was well equipped for business, 
for he had $125. In addition to this, he had good 
health, capacity and energy. If a man fail with 
these, it will do him no good to will him a fortune. 



390 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Greene well knew that he could not successfully 
compete with the stocked houses of the city ; but 
down on the square, where the cotton men " camped 
out," he resolved to create his trade. Attractive, 
shrewd and accommodating, he soon won a host of 
customers. He had his established prices at the 
house, but on the square he must compete with all 
manner of men. He often sold a barrel of sugar 
or sack of coffee for twenty-five cents profit, these 
men never buying in less quantities. During the 
first year, he frequently sold more goods in a day 
than he had in the store. 

As quick, however, as he had made a sale to one 
of these men, he would dispatch a dray to the 
wholesale house, and have the order filled and the 
goods presently rolled on the sidewalk at his front 
door. After he had been in business some two 
years, Mr. Tresvant, the proprietor of the wholesale 
house, passing down the street and noticing Greene's 
name over the door, stepped in to see him. Dumb- 
founded at the smallness of the concern, he said: 
"This is one of your branch houses, Mr. Greene?" 
"No," said Greene; "this is the only house I have 
ever done business in." " Well," replied Tresvant, 
"from the size of your wholesale bills, I supposed 
you had one of the largest houses in the city." 
" No, sir," said Greene, with a tinge of self-adula- 
tion ; "the house is fourteen feet square — it's the 
man that does the business!" 

On entering business, the young merchant felt 
that it was as necessary to establish good credit 



WILLIAM a. GREENE, 391 

as to win customers. He stocked his room with 
shelf-goods, one sack of coffee, and two barrels of 
sugar. After the first few purchases, he invariably 
sent his orders to the wholesale trade without the 
cash. And then, once a week, on a certain evening 
at five o'clock, he started out to settle his bills. He 
always rejoiced when it stormed, so he could go 
through the rain to his settlements. He would 
pass into the counting-room dripping with rain, 
shaking himself and smiling. They would remon- 
strate with him, saying they did not expect men to 
come at such times. But he felt that his credit was 
every thing. " I have nothing but my honor," he 
would say, " and I am determined to have as good 
credit as any man in this city ; and there is no way 
to get it but to meet my obligations, rain or shine." 

At the end of three years, Mr. Greene found him- 
self worth four thousand dollars. He was solicited to 
take one of the mammoth rooms in the heart of the 
city, but he saw, in the young and growing State of 
Illinois, an opportunity for making money that the 
business of Memphis was not acquainted with. He 
had lost sight of his social and political prejudices 
far enough to believe that he could live comfortably 
in any place which furnished him opportunities for 
business. The decision made, he closed business 
with his usual dispatch, and was soon located on a 
farm in White County, Illinois. 

In 1853, he purchased the farm near Tallula, 
Menard County, on which he has since resided. He 
is as practical and original in his farming as in his 



392 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

trading schemes. He has always farmed on the 
principle that there are two ways of doing a thing. 
As he says himself, " Every thing has two ends — a 
right end, and a wrong end. If you begin at the 
wrong end, every thing will go wrong. If you begin 
at the right end, the seasons, the elements, all nature 
become your helpers. Begin everything at the right 
time and place — get the right kind of a start, and 
pursuing it with energy and discretion, there is no 
difficulty in attaining large results. Here, now, is a 
hundred acres of corn. See those ears bursting out 
of the end of the husk, with sound grains of corn 
entirely over the end of the cob. No half-inch of 
dead waste there, and five pounds of weight gained 
on every bushel. 

"Look down these rows: not a blade of grass; 
not a weed. What makes this corn, is, it gets every 
ounce of strength that the soil has to yield. The 
Lord is always on the side of the thrifty husband- 
man, just as He is always on the side of the best 
generals and the biggest guns. Nature is man's 
friend ; she will stand by him and give him a boun- 
tiful crop, if he will only treat her right, and keep 
the ' chains ' off. But if he turns the soil unseason- 
ably, or plants unseasonably, or binds nature, down, 
like a slave, in weeds and thistles, she gives him a 
small crop, because he will not unloose her, that 
she may give him a large one. Every farmer can 
become rich, if he will work in harmony with nature. 
I court her, and pet her, and anticipate her wants, 
with all the devotion a young husband brings to 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 393 

his bride. Nature is not a slave ; she is a friend 
and an ally. 

" Few farmers know how to stimulate a tenant and 
get all out of him he is capable of doing. I bind 
every man in a contract. The corn-field is to be 
kept in a certain condition ; in the month of August, 
every noxious weed is to be driven out. I show 
them where other men fail, and how I make my 
money. Then, to add to it all, I give a handsome 
premium to the man who raises the best crop. 
Every acre is tended as well as if I was doing it 
myself. The most indolent hand becomes a miracle 
of energy, and registers an oath against weeds and 
clods as terrible and eternal as that of Hannibal 
against the enemy of Carthage. 

" Thus it is, through these agencies, I give nature 
an opportunity to do her wonted work, and, for these 
thirty years of farming, my fields have averaged 
seventy -one bushels of corn to the acre. I work 
no harder than other men. The average farmer 
harvests thirty bushels to the acre. Now, count 
that forty bushels extra on each acre for a hundred 
acres, for thirty consecutive years, putting it at the 
fair price of thirty cents a bushel ; let this surplus 
stand at interest and compound interest, and you 
have, in thirty years, one hundred thousand dollars! 
— enough wealth for any man. That accounts for 
that much of my fortune. Any farmer can accom- 
plish that same result who will follow the same 
path that I have worked in. That hundred thousand 



394 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

dollars is the difference between good farming and 
common farming for thirty years! 

"The easiest way to do a thing is the best way, 
whether it be mauling rails or ruling the nation. 
That corn-field I sowed down this Fall with rye, 
and harrowed it in with sheep. We flung the rye 
on to the ground, and then turned fifty sheep into 
the field ; in a few days they had drilled it in better 
than any drill could have done. It has been pro- 
nounced the best piece of rye in the county. I 
drill my wheat in the same way. The sharp hoofs 
pack the grain in until it defies winter, and, while 
other men often have their fall sowings frozen out, 
mine has never been injured by the cold. 

"Farming is a science, as much as chiseling a 
Madonna or navigating the ocean ; but men abuse 
it, saying it is only working with dirt ; and, as a 
result, they harvest thistles and mortgages. What 
is painting or rearing palaces but working with earth 
in another form ? The same devotion brought to 
the primitive soil that is expended upon these, 
would give the farmer the means to control the 
artist at his easel, and let him slumber in the 
palace of the architect. 

" I greatly admire those words of Horace Greeley, 
prophetic and true : ' Facts abundantly indicate that 
the actual position of the cultivator is not what it 
might and should be. He ought to be, by science 
and wisdom, the master of the elements; yet is, 
through ignorance and imperfection, their slave. 
Instead of being, as in manufactures or navigation, 



WILLIAM Q. GREENE. 395 



the director and controller of the blind forces of 
nature to his own use and profit, the farmer allows 
them to escape him in uselessness or mischief, and 
feebly and insufficiently supplies their place by over- 
taxing his own sinews. Hence, weariness, disgust, 
and meager recompense ; hence the accomplished 
or longed-for escape of countless thousands from 
the paltry drudgery of the hoe and spade to the 
larger hopes and more intellectual sphere of effort 
elsewhere afforded. 

"'Within the sphere of Agriculture lie yet 
enfolded the germs of future conquests, far mightier 
and nobler than those of any Caesar or Napo- 
leon. These petty, cramped inclosures, these 
deforming, dwarfing fences, which render the land- 
scape so insipid and characterless, shall yet be 
swept away by the genius of improvement. Then 
the brook shall no more brawl idly down the 
declivity, while the laborer delves wearily, yet 
ineffectually, by its side, and man will no more 
stoop doggedly to burdens which the free breezes 
would gladly bear to their appointed destination. 
We stand but on the threshold of the world of 
science made practical, and our vision rests on and 
is bounded by its application to manufactures alone. 
The farmer of the coming age — master and 
manager of steam, rather than tyrant of enslaved, 
toil-worn, hungry beasts — shall not need painfully 
to heave the ponderous rock from its base, but will, 
rather, by some chemical solvent, pulverize it to 
fertile dust where it lies. To his informed, observ- 



396 • SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

ant mind, the changes of temperature, the succes- 
sion of calm and storm, shall bring no surprise, no 
disaster, being unerringly foreseen and profited by, 
like the rotation of the seasons. . . . There is 
no practical limit to the powers at all times 
presenting themselves to do the bidding of man, had 
he but the talent and the genius to adapt and apply 
them. Nature wills that the plow, the scythe, the 
axe, the harvest-wain, shall move forward on their 
proper errands, as irresistibly, inexpensively as the 
saw, the throstle, the shuttle, and with equally 
beneficent results. Half a century will suffice, in 
my judgment, to bring forward agriculture to the 
point manufacture has now reached.' 

" The farmer is the chief corner-stone of our 
commerce. If he does his work indifferently, the 
whole superstructure is to that extent impaired. I 
hail fairs, and agricultural colleges, and an agricul- 
tural congress, as God-sends to our nation. We 
must be lifted out of this ignorant, slip-shod farming, 
that expects the ground to bring forth harvests with 
half-cultivation drudgingly given. If I sweat out a 
dollar, I have rendered its full equivalent, and more; 
for that much of my vital force is gone, and I am 
no better than the machine that performs that many 
'horse-power' work. But if I bring my intelligence 
into action, and, by its assistance, produce the work 
of three such machines, then have I a profit over 
saw-mills and beasts of burden. That profit is the 
legitimate capital of my brain. Nature intends for 
man to take that surplus cash and travel, buy 



WILLIAM 0. GREENE. 397 

books, and educate, and purchase, and admire, 
the useful and the beautiful. Educate the 
farmers and artisans ; teach them that they are 
men ; show them how to use their brain in 
conjunction with their muscle ; let them know the 
meaning of thrift, and study the wealth in economy. 
If all our laboring classes would thus act, every man 
could soon have a home, a competence for his old 
age, and would lead a life serene, intelligent, and 
happy." 

Such is the terse and vivid way in which Mr. 
Greene speaks of a farmer's life. This class of men 
never leave any thing to chance. They enter into 
the meditations of a philosopher over every crop 
to be planted. They take the papers, and keep 
posted on the markets, and know the number of 
bushels of each kind of grain raised on the globe 
each season. Keeping pace with the supply, and 
knowing the demand, they always prepare them- 
selves to feed the greatest need. 

Another maxim of the good business man is to 
make some money every year. He who acts on this 
principle, is a sure and safe business man. He that 
proposes to " drive business for all it is worth," and 
make a fortune in ten years, may secure some 
enormous returns, but he is about as certain to lose 
them. As some men die just at the right time to 
give their names to fame, so, if these men would 
leave a fortune, they must die just after a big trade. 
Senator Yates was always impatient of Greenes slow 
way of making money, and would continually 



398 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

picture to him John T. Alexander, the great cattle 
shipper, as the model business man, and was grieved 
that Greene would not make the mammoth ventures 
of Alexander. 

One day Yates came to Greene, and showed him 
a statement of Alexander's business for the past 
year. He had cleared two hundred and ninety-five 
thousand dollars. "Now," said Yates, "you drone 
around and make about so much every year, and 
John pitches out and makes a fortune in one year." 
" I know he is outstripping me now," Greene quietly 
replied, " but he is sailing his craft over a dangerous 
sea. He will bankrupt inside of ten years, as sure 
as fate. But my fortune is solid as Gibraltar. No 
possible reverse can come that will break me. In 
selling railroad stock, or a hundred head of cattle, 
or a horse, I make something in every transaction. 
I have the reins over my business, and understand 
it to the minutest detail ; while John is an adven- 
turer, knowing really but little about his business, 
and is wildly prospecting for a gold mine somewhere! 7 
The prediction was fulfilled. In less than ten years 
Alexander was a bankrupt, and did not know his 
indebtedness by two hundred thousand dollars. 

Greene seldom invested a dollar in any enterprise 
that lost him money. He entertains a trade 
involving a hundred dollars, with the same patient 
study and sagacity that he does one involving a 
hundred thousand. He considers a result, whether 
it be ten dollars, or ten thousand dollars' profit, of 
equal importance. He strives, not for so many 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 399 

dollars, but for the successful issue of a trade. And 
such a result he deems no mean achievement. The 
words of Frederick the Great, concerning his 
father, may be applied to Mr. Greene: " He had an 
industrious spirit in a robust body, with, perhaps, 
more capacity for minute details than any man 
that ever lived ; and if he occupied himself with little 
things, it was that great results might be the 
consequence." 

Some men can make money at certain times. 
To Greene all times are alike good for a crop of 
profits. If crops are good, commerce is active, and 
every one is full of money, he makes, with others. 
If crops are poor, improvements come to a stop, 
every man afraid to invest, and dealers being pushed 
to the wall, he makes his usual amount. He is 
never alarmed at the times, nor disconcerted in his 
plans. His cool, self-possessed, far-reaching sagacity 
never forsakes him. He trims his sails for every 
condition of affairs, and out of calm or whirlwind 
sails away with a profit. 

He likes to see a disruption of all business rela- 
tions occasionally, because it exhibits the real 
metal of the business men. When the ways of 
commerce have become stereotyped, and every 
thing runs in its rut, many men get rich by follow- 
ing the routine that the real men of business have 
established ; now, when all this is interrupted and 
the old paths are plowed up, and every man is 
in the " woods," is the time the original, self-reliant 
men manifest their worth. 



400 SUCCESS IJST LIFE. 

Mr. Greene early foresaw the necessity of internal 
improvement, and has given all the weight of his 
influence in that direction. However, except in 
cases of extreme necessity, he has opposed govern- 
ment subsidies. He was active in the presidency 
of the Jacksonville Division of the Chicago and 
Alton Railroad. The energy and sagacity he 
brought to his duties were effectual in placing the 
road on a firmer basis than it had ever known 
before. His presidency of the Springfield and North- 
western Railroad covered the most flourishing 
period of that road's existence. 

Men of keen business insight and originality of 
methods are quite apt to display their qualities 
under all circumstances. During Mr. Greenes 
presidency of the Tonica and Petersburg Railroad, 
he went, in company with Richard Yates, to New 
York, to see after their bonds. On the road, 
Yates, who was then only a promising lawyer, 
told Greene confidentially that he proposed to be 
Governor of Illinois some day, and solicited his 
support, -which was promised. In New York, as 
both were Universalists, they went to hear Dr. 
Chapin, but were unable to find a seat. The next 
Sunday evening Greene reconnoitered the vestibule 
and saw a pale, frail, nervous little usher. He 
hastened over to the hotel and brought Yates to 
the church, telling him that he had a seat engaged. 
They entered the crowded vestibule, and pushed 
their way to the front. A great athletic usher 
made his appearance to take in some parties. 



WILLIAM G. GBEENE. 401 

Yates, from the top of six feet, looked down on 
the plucky little financier. But he stood meekly, 
saying, in his own mind, "That's not my man." 

The pale and delicate usher appeared. The 
crowd pressed up as usual, each one seeming to 
say — Take me. Greene stepped out in front, waving 
the crowd back with his outstretched arms, and 
saying: "Ladies and gentlemen, give the Governor 
of Illinois an opportunity to hear Dr. Chapin — 
modesty forbids that I should say who / am." 
The crowd swayed back. The little usher salamed 
to his knees. Then, plucking Yates by one arm 
and Greene by the other, he led them down the 
aisle, brought two camp-chairs and seated his dis- 
tinguished guests at the foot of the pulpit. 

Mr. Greene has never divided his forces, but has 
given his energies supremely to business. Men who 
do a little at every thing, do not usually do much 
at any thing. So, when Greene had decided on his 
life course, he threw overboard the solicitations of 
Lincoln and Yates, and set himself to work at his 
chosen calling. He, however, played a very impor- 
tant part, privately, in one political campaign. That 
part was not as a politician, but as a friend. In 1859, 
the dreams of Richard Yates stood on the threshold 
of fulfillment. He was an aspirant for the Governor- 
ship of Illinois, but Leonard Swett seemingly stood 
an equal chance for the nomination. The canvass 
prior to the convention was carried on with great 
warmth, and Yates was fearful of the result. Lincoln 

had established himself at Springfield, and, in his 

26 



402 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

recent debates with Douglas, had earned a national 
reputation. 

As the convention day drew near, Yates felt that 
he must make a friend of Lincoln, and decided that 
their old companion, Greene, was able to manipulate 
the matter to the satisfaction of both. Accordingly, 
Yates came to see Greene, and told him he was 
certain of the nomination, provided Lincoln could be 
induced to " lean" to his side; moreover, that Lincoln 
stood a favorable chance for the Republican nomi- 
nation for President ; and he asked Greene to 
interest Lincoln in his favor in the race for Gover- 
nor. In return, Yates would use his influence to 
bring Lincoln into prominence as a candidate for 
the Presidency in i860. 

Mr. Greene assented to the arrangement. They 
rode over to Springfield, and once more the three, 
who had made acquaintance at Salem a quarter of 
a century before, stood together. Their circum- 
stances had greatly changed since that first meet- 
ing. One had become an active member of Congess, 
and now, with high hopes, was looking forward to 
the gubernatorial chair. His college friend, aided 
only by his energy and shrewdness, had hewn his 
way through obstacles before which others would 
have shrunk, and raised himself from an obscure 
youth to be a wealthy and prominent citizen of 
the state. The third was rapidly growing into 
fame as a statesman. Little did any of them think 
what tremendous issues were gathering around the 
path of one of that trio! 



WILLIAM a. GREENE. 403 

Greene and Lincoln retired to the counsel room 
of the office. There Greene unfolded to Lincoln 
the desire of Yates for his support. There had 
been a coolness between the two latter for some 
years, and Lincoln was glad of an opportunity to 
lay the Christian's coals of fire on the head of 
Yates. Greene next opened the Presidential mat- 
ter. He showed Lincoln the feasibility of his aspi- 
rations, and revealed the plan of introducing him 
to the East: Yates would write Congressman George 
Briggs a letter, and have him work up a call from 
the New York Central Committee for Lincoln to 
deliver an address on the political condition of the 
country at the Cooper Union. "In fact, Abe," 
continued Greene, " Dick considers your destiny 
and his linked together, and that letter is now on 
its way to New York." Of course Abe would 
"lean" a little for Dick. Yates was nominated and 
elected. Lincoln was invited to New York, and in 
the following May received the Presidential nomi- 
nation. 

The elements of Mr. Greene's success are readily 
traced in his qualities. He is remarkable for the 
strength and symmetry of his character. His brain 
is well balanced, and his great mental force, keen 
perception, and quick intuitions are compensated 
by a genial temperament, kindly nature, and other 
graces of character which relieve these qualities 
from what might otherwise assume the form of 
severity, or even angularity, and make him a courtly 
gentleman. Cautious, systematic, and reflective in 



404 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

his business operations, he is yet daring, deter- 
mined, and even combative, where his intellect has 
indicated the proper course for him to follow ; and, 
with these nobler qualities, he possesses, to a 
remarkable degree, that possibly commonplace, but 
certainly useful, characteristic, practical common 
sense. 

To natural shrewdness he adds habits of observa- 
tion that make his judgment, in matters of business, 
almost unerring. Combine with this, promptness to 
seize upon the salient points of a transaction, and 
decision enough to assume at once the responsibility 
of a contract, and we have the elements of the keen, 
successful business man. In connection with a nice 
perception and understanding of the relations of 
details, his broad and vital grasp of mammoth 
interests has been the impelling power by which Mr. 
Greene has succeeded in manipulating operations 
which, to many men, . would have been reckless 
adventures, crowned with disaster. 

Finally, if the prosperity of William G. Greene 
has been beyond that of most men, it is because he 
has thought more, planned better, and brought to 
the execution of his designs energy and persever- 
ance that seldom fail in the accomplishment of their 
object. Born to the necessities of labor, the early 
circumstances of his life offered no promise of golden 
success. That was something almost foreign to the 
rude time and community in which he grew to 
manhood. Had his life been cast amid abundant 
opportunities for enterprise, he would doubtless have 



WILLIAM G. GREENE. 405 

reaped larger gains. As it was, the rough, backwoods 
life, the hardships of whose training have brought 
upon the stage so much of sterling worth, while it 
in some sense held talent in check, yet was not 
without its influence in cultivating shrewdness, 
energy, self-reliance, and decision ; qualities which 
always, and everywhere, must be relied upon to 
produce success. Fortune is a fickle goddess. She 
commonly frowns before she smiles. Those who 
woo her successfully must first withstand her buffet- 
ings, and in the school of a thousand emergencies 
and difficulties, gain the bravery and tact which at 
last carry the day. It was by such a process that 
William G. Greene climbed from poverty to position 
and six hundred thousand dollars. 




jSelf^ssettiDtn 



And if thou sayest I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here, 
Lowland or Highland, far or near, 
Lord Angus, thou hast lied. 

— Walter Scott. 

A fire burns in our hearts — we must speak or die. — Stopford 
Brooke. 




4 o6 



CHAPTER XIX. 



SELF-ASSERTION. 




VERY human being has a core, or central 
characteristic, around which all the other 
characteristics range themselves. It is that which 
distinguishes one man from every other. It is the 
"what you are," and not the "who you are." When 
Thomas Gray, musing on an unknown grave, ex- 
claimed — 

" Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest, 
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood," 

he had exactly the conception which, for want of a 
word that precisely denotes the thought, will be 
represented by selfhood in this chapter — a self that 
was capable of the glorious productions of Milton, 
but had mutely retired to the grave ; that possessed 
the iron will and executive character of Cromwell, 
but had stood guiltless of their exercise to the 
last. An unasserted self is unmistakably the poet's 
thought. 

Senator Oglesby, of Illinois, furnishes an apt and 
very striking illustration of our theme. When a 



408 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

very young man, after he had been admitted to 
the bar, and before he had had much experience in 
the practice of the law, on one occasion he attended 
court in a county where he was unknown. A 
culprit at the bar having no one to defend him, 
the judge asked the legal gentlemen if some one 
would not volunteer for that service. The young 
stranger arose, and, in a rather confused way, said 
that he would take the case. After a short con- 
sultation with his client, he stated that he was 
ready for trial. The veterans exchanged glances, 
and a smile — part incredulity, part contempt, with 
a tinge of amusement — illumined each face. The 
counsel for the prosecution was a large and power- 
ful man, in the vigor of mature manhood, who had 
had a large practice in the courts for many years. 
The young stranger knew this when he saw him 
arise to open the case. He knew a crisis in his 
life was at hand. 

The counsel for the prosecution dwelt particularly 
on the bad character of the prisoner ; attributed to 
him every villainy our language is capable of 
expressing, and then turned upon the opposing 
counsel, and poured upon him a tornado of gibes 
and taunts. Suddenly he stopped, paused for several 
seconds, then pointing his finger at our hero, with 
a grimace, exclaimed : " Do you know what I always 
think of when I look at him?" Still with pointed 
finger, he roared, after another pause, " Beef and 
onions!!" One loud burst of laughter shook the 
court-room. In the midst of this uproar while the 



SELF-ASSERTION. 409 

assailant still stood with pointed finger, the young 
man, at a single bound, reached him, and with one 
mighty blow, knocked the aggressor clear across the 
forum. Such a shout and clapping of hands was not 
often heard, even in those pioneer days. 

Many years afterward, Oglesby asserted it as his 
conviction that, " had I not knocked him down as I 
did, I never could have been anything. A man must 
not only feel, but assert, his manhood." 

Without commending this mode of self-assertion, 
it is but just to say, considering the difference of 
the circumstances, it is exactly paralleled by Pitt, in 
his reply to Walpole. Walpole had accused him of 
theatrical declamation. Pitt closed his reply by 
saying : " But if any man shall, by charging me with 
theatrical behavior, imply that I utter any senti- 
ments but my own, I shall treat him as a calumni- 
ator and a villain ; nor shall any protection shelter 
him from the treatment he deserves. I shall, on 
such occasion, without scruple, trample upon all 
those forms with which wealth and dignity intrench 
themselves ; nor shall any thing but age restrain my 
resentment — age, which always brings one privilege, 
that of being insolent and supercilious without 
punishment." 

How many mute, inglorious Miltons there are ! 
How many men who are conscious nature framed 
them for a larger destiny than they are filling. 
Men who see, all round them, those they know to 
be by nature and culture their inferiors, proudly 
rushing to victory, while they, alas! are trailing 



410 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

along in the rear-guard of the struggle. The 
successful men may not be much above mediocrity, 
but they do possess some of the elements that tell 
on the world — they assert themselves. And all the 
genius and talent the others may possess, if held in 
reserve, will weigh as nothing against the self- 
assertive tact of their competitor. 

Some of the most gifted spirits have been snatched 
from oblivion by the accident of one effort. Tasso 
would not have been known, unless for his madness, 
had it not been for one poem, Jerusalem Delivered. 
Posterity holds the authors of the Old Oaken 
Bucket, Woodman, Spare that Tree, and Home, 
Sweet Home, by the slender thread of a few verses. 
Col. E. D. Baker, without doubt one of the richest 
of American orators, will be unknown to the com- 
ing generation unless the chance publication of his 
oration over Broderick should preserve him. When 
we consider the solitary claim that so many of our 
heroes hold on posterity, it is fair to conclude that 
many having equal mental ability have not crossed 
the line for one achievement. 

Men like De Quincey, Irving, Cuvier, and Buffon, 
men whose works have poured like a flood on the 
world, are not necessarily possessed of nobler powers 
than those who have restricted the number of their 
achievements, but they have possessed the faculty 
of execution. This faculty for execution is not 
always commendable. When it gives us a half- 
dozen books from the pen of a Habberton in one 
year, no matter how good some of them may be, a 



SELF - ASSERTION. 411 

part of them are sure to be trashy. The orator on 
the floor of the "House" who is forever running 
at the mouth, will seldom have attentive hearers, 
and more rarely make a good speech. When the 
quantity of any thing is great the quality is usually 
poor. 

On the whole, however, if one has any thing to 
say or do, he had better assert himself. Especially 
in this age are the retiring men likely to be crowded 
out, and not unfrequently by those less worthy. 
Modest merit is no longer a virtue, if to assert 
one's self is immodest. The man who feels he has 
a mission must not expect some friend to ask the 
world to stop while he quietly and nicely unfolds 
it. He must boldly march to his place of action, 
take the animal by the horns, force a hearing, and 
compel obedience, 

Self-assertion has been the reformatory power 
of the world. Luther, and Calvin, and Wesley, and 
Campbell, felt a mission pressing on their souls, 
and they would give it vent if every tile on the 
house-tops were an opposing devil. When Harvey 
announced the circulation of the blood, and Jenner 
prophesied the value of vaccination, they knew the 
world of thought and learning would be arrayed 
against them. But such souls must burst the egg 
of their conception on the world or their spirits 
would rend their bodies. Our constitutional fathers 
pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred 
honor to the inalienable rights of every man. Cal- 
houn believed in the rio-nt of secession, and dared 



412 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

maintain it. President Jackson did not, and, " By 
the Eternal, would hang every man that tried to 
enact it." William Lloyd Garrison spoke for 
equality before the law, "would not equivocate," 
and would " be heard." Out of the throes of such 
spirits does the world receive a fire that purifies 
the nations and upbuilds manhood. 

Horace Greeley began life with no favoring sur- 
roundings. He scorned the luxuries of wealth and 
all the wiles of the flatterer. He only knew to 
speak that which he believed to be true. All his 
eventful life he was a target for some class of the 
community, and frequently the opposition of the 
whole country was leveled against him ; but no 
man respected it more and heeded it less. The 
one supreme thought of his life was to advocate 
what self thought to be right. He did it when 
he signed the bond of Jeff Davis; and finally, when 
he did that which caused his final defeat, hastened 
his death, and involved his reputation, he did it 
with the supreme conviction that he could heal 
the national wounds, and bring order and pros- 
perity out of chaos. 

Take that statesman who died recently — Senator 
Morton. All men concede his greatness, but many 
condemn him for his relentless advocacy of certain 
principles. Therein is where men of his iron build 
are not understood. Morton believed that a certain 
line of legislation was essential to the perpetuity 
of the nation ; believing it, he advocated it in its 
extremest character. His nature spurned a com- 



SELF - ASSERTION. 41g 

promise ; his fates drove him irresistibly on to all 
he did, and he could not have helped it if it had 
bankrupted the universe. And so, Calhoun — who 
would have measured swords with Morton if they 
had been in the Senate together — must speak and 
practice the faith that was in him, or the world 
would not be able to hold his frail body. 

Robert Emmet lost his head for daring to strike 
for the liberty of Ireland. His unconquered soul 
said, in his last speech : " Let no man mark my 
tomb until my country takes her place among the 
nations of the earth." His rough granite stands 
there in Dublin, unchiseled, unlettered, a silent slab. 
But the spirits of such men walk abroad, though 
their bodies sleep ; and the asserted patriotism of 
her few martyrs is the seed that is daily germin- 
ating into new life in her sleeping people, and ere 
long will give to the world a free Ireland. 

One man frequently sees another of no greater 
ability than himself boldly reach up, and, by daring 
to do it, develop some unusual achievement while 
he has thought to do that very thing ; but for some, 
to him, unaccountable reason, he failed to grapple 
the issue, and now he walks unknown in the rear 
of the victor. No more stinging bitterness can be 
conceived. The yawning chasm that lies between 
the undeveloped hero and him who has won the 
world's notice, consists only in the "putting forth 
of self." But that is everything. Opportunities come 
to all men ; but he whose genius can make an 
opportunity is panoplied for any event in life. 



414 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Take the great throbbing centers of commerce. 
There, openings for achievements, in various ave- 
nues, are thrust upon men daily. Yet few seem to 
know the hour of their appearance, or the order of 
their coming. They rush blindly on in the old rut, 
gaining to-day and losing to-morrow, and never, in 
truth, accomplishing any thing worthy. At the same 
time there is a Vanderblit or a Claflin, strange to 
the city and unacquainted with the ways of trade, 
thrown into the channels of commerce, who at once 
becomes a leader. It is not simply will-power nor 
self-reliance that does this. It the assertion of self, 
made in so peculiar and potent a way, that men 
and trade instinctively yield the mastery. 

Egotism is not self-assertion. The profoundest 
egotists are sometimes the most consummate pla- 
giarists. That puffing, bellowing Dr. Push, who 
presses his advice upon every consumptive he 
meets, volunteers an alterative to every dyspeptic of 
his acquaintance, and issues a gratuitous prescrip- 
tion to every sick and dying man in the community, 
is only an egotist thirsting for practice and popu- 
larity. Rather does the physician who, after exam- 
ining the patient, and soberly weighing all the 
contingencies in the case, decide upon his course 
by the aid of thought and investigation, and quietly 
carry it out in spite of the patient, family, or text- 
books. He may not be so notorious in the com- 
munity, and perhaps for a time will not thrive along, 
side of Dr. Push, but he is the man sober people 



SELF-ASSERTION. 415 

will prefer to trust, and in the end he will have 
pushed the egotist off the track. 

Self-hood has little confidence in an opinion or 
an assistance because the ego gives it. It speaks 
or does a thing from principle. It asserts because 
a thing is true ; and because it is true, it can not 
keep from asserting it. That long line of martyrs 
to religion, science, and ideas, from Hypatia to 
John Brown, had all their egotism swallowed up 
in a grander self-hood. Over against the "ego" 
they wrote " principle," and were willing there and 
thus to die. 

Emerson beautifully says, of such a character as 
we seek to delineate, " It makes an overpowering 
present ; a cheerful, determined hour which fortifies 
all the company, by making them see that much is 
possible and excellent that was not thought of." 
It dulls the impression of particular events. When 
we see the conqueror, we do not think much of 
any one battle or success. We see that we had 
exaggerated the difficulty. It was easy to him. 
The great man is serene and equable. Events pass 
over him without stirring the profound depths of 
his soul. 

No man can do a thrifty business, in working up 
self-assertion, who lies under a load of debt. To 
be in debt is to be in prison. Whichever way one 
turns, he strikes against some impassable wall. His 
cell is too narrow, either to allow him to stretch 
out or to stand upright. To venture on self-asser- 



416 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

tion, in so grave a predicament as this, would be as 
laughable as to attempt to extricate oneself from 
the depths of a quagmire, by a hop, step, and jump. 
But, it is said, let a man stand on his manhood, 
whatever befalls. So say we, but can he ? Talk 
about a pleading, cringing, humbled debtor exercising 
self-assertion i Some men, so situated, exercise 
cheek, and others flunkeyism ; some indulge in 
penitence, and many in remorse ; some prevaricate, 
and others exercise themselves in a forlorn hope ; 
some in a brilliant series of collapsing promises ; 
some in an occasional spasmodic, struggling kick ; 
but few are capable of manly self-assertion. 

Self-assertion lies in utter disregard of wealth or 
glory. There wasn't enough gold in Congress to 
buy the sturdy statesman of Roanoke, or change 
the vote of the lofty Calhoun. So no man ever 
charged Milton with corruption or bribes. When 
he felt his country in danger, he threw aside poetry, 
that idol of his heart, which was winning him a 
world of friends, and destined to write his name in 
immortal characters — he threw it all aside, and 
employed his voice and pen, with Cromwell, against 
the aggressions of prelacy and the tyranny of kings. 
Were not the grandest orations of Demosthenes 
spoken, not for self, but for others' good ? The 
men who can cast out self, and lay themselves on 
the altar of principle, possess one element of true 
greatness. The proudest and noblest self-assertion 
we remember to have heard of, was that of 
Professor Agassiz, when some one exclaimed that, 



SELF. ASSERTION. 417 

with his knowledge and abilities, he might make a 
great deal of money. " Sir," replied Agassiz, " I have 
no time to make money." 

Winchell, in his late work on Science and Religion, 
says: "The din of a great controversy sounds in 
our ears. Men of thought have been summoned to 
choose their banner, and range themselves upon one 
side or the other of the line of battle. It mieht be 
expected that I should appear before you in a 

militant character. I do not I love 

peace. I shall be reproached for weakness. We 
shall hear of somebody ' on the fence.' Extremists 
will say I have no opinions, and court the favor of 
both combatants. I shall, nevertheless, be brave 
enough to face such dangers.; and I shall deliber- 
ately incur the risk of losing the favor of both 
combatants by refusing to take sides with either. 
To be positive is not to be strong ; to be dogmatic 
is not to be brave. To be right, is to be both 
strong and brave." 

Look at the career of that statesman of the old 
Commonwealth, Charles Sumner. As a boy at 
school, he never engaged in the sports of his 
mates. Knowledge was his aim ; he had no time 
for recreation. He was the pet and pride of Boston 
when, on the Fourth of July, 1844, he was elected 
her orator. His speech was a blow in the face of 
all Massachusetts, and in one hour the budding 
leaves on the tree of his prosperity were nipped. 
Friends and foes stood in a common phalanx 

against him. He was ostracised from every social 

27 



418 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

gathering in the state, except at Longfellow's, and 
never after received a fee as an attorney. 

An unprecedented eruption and combination of 
political forces gave him a seat in the United 
States Senate in 1851. Here he again struck a 
blow to all personal glory, and Richard H. Dana 
said : " Sumner is a cat without a smeller." From 
that time on until his death, he was striking friends 
and enemies alike. He had no conception of popu- 
larity, no estimate of men, no dream of ambition ; 
he was an exile from his party when he died, and 
had scarcely known the pleasure of a social hour 
for thirty years. 

Once taking his stand, he went forward as though 
all the world was in his support; he knew no differ- 
ence. But principles and exact truth he knew, and 
searched through thirteen editions of one author 
to make sure a quotation was exactly correct. He 
was the embodiment of self-hood. He tilled the 
four requisitions of greatness — he was without self- 
ishness ; he never faltered in asserting the faith 
within his soul ; his life was given to the procla- 
mation of a great principle, and he saw it triumph 
before he died. 

To get out all there is in one is a problem of 
life. John Hampden was without genius, and only 
mediocre in talent. But he held his convictions 
with earnest intensity: he must proclaim them. 
What is a small faith in other men, becomes a 
passion with these men. So, when the men of 
genius and culture, and the lords and barons 



SELF-ASSERTION. 419 

failed, John Hampden quietly pointed out the path 
that must be taken, left the farm, grasped the helm 
of state, and tided the nation through a great 
storm. 

Horace Walpole was certainly not above medi- 
ocrity. Macaulay says his oratory "was nonsense, 
effervescent with animal spirit and impertinence." 
All the able men of his time ridiculed him as a 
dunce, a driveler, a child who never knew his own 
mind for an hour together ; and yet he overreached 
them all. 

He despised learning, hated fame, loved garden- 
ing, adorned his house with pie-crust battlements, 
and only seemed to talk politics and go to Parlia- 
ment for pastime. Yet the slightest idea of gov- 
ernmental policy that ever crawled into his brain 
was asserted with such unction as to its feasibility 
and excellence, that the nation almost universally 
received it as from an oracle. For thirty years he 
was Secretary of State, and during ten years First 
Lord of the Treasury. No man ever ruled England 
so easily as Walpole. He never doubted himself. 

It is an accepted fact that a majority of the 
world's leaders in every age have risen without the 
advantages of education or wealth. All around 
these men in the lower walks of life are those who 
possess rare attainments, and with them have all 
the perseverance and ambition known to men. The 
higher advancement of the others is not because 
the world pays a premium on the uncultured and 
the poor, but because the same amount of native 



420 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

ability, when asserted, is of more value than when 
it is gilt-edged and ingloriously mute. One may 
have much perseverance (but so has the blind 
horse on the tread-mill), and he may be eaten up 
of ambition, as was Voltaire, and yet lack this 
great requisite of self-hood. Counsel with sagacity. 
Be cautious and meditative in all that you say and 
do. After all this, obey the faith of the soul, and 
never flinch. 





^Jetgeberance 



" Alas ! he has not the gift of continuance." 

See first that the design is wise and just; 
That ascertained, pursue it resolutely ; 
Do not for one repulse forego the purpose 
That you resolved to effect. — Mills. 

Time and patience change the mulberry leaf to satin. — East- 
ern Proverb. 

Labor is the price which the gods have set upon all that is 
excellent. — Pagans. 




CHAPTER XX 



PERSEVERANCE. 




T is said that Robert Bruce, being defeated 
six times, fled before the armies of Edward 
in despair, seeking rest and a hiding-place in an old 
barn. While there he observed a spider which was 
endeavoring to weave a web in a window corner. 
Six times it strove to throw itself across from the wall 
to the window, and failed. But on the seventh effort 
it conquered. Having thus learned a lesson on 
perseverance, he buckled on his armor, renewed his 
courage, and went forth to victory. Both spider and 
warrior discovered that there was some thing more 
needed than the genius of creation. 

" The best laid schemes o' mice and men 
Gang aft a-gley." 

It was only by persistent attempt, changing his 
base of operations and his plans, and pushing 
through obstacles, that Bruce gained the day. Some 
of the most stupendous failures history records were 
made by men who had genius of the first order but 



424 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

lacked wit to discern the importance of " magazines" 
of perseverance. History also informs us of giant 
deeds, done by home-spun, but untiring, workers — 
men who, although surpassed by many in brilliancy 
of intellect, combined, in their make-up, many of the 
unmistakable properties for conquest. Some very 
discriminating thinkers have decided genius to be 
but another name for industry. But whatever the 
truth may be concerning it, we are in no danger of 
misunderstanding, what perseverance is. Newton 
said he made his great discoveries by " always 
thinking into them." 

How many investigators will persevere, through 
every obstacle, to perfect knowledge? How many 
authors will thus think through a subject? How 
many take pleasure in improving that which is 
already prepared to hand? How many have cour- 
age enough to give their own work a thorough 
revision ? Who of my readers could have the 
patience of DeQuincey, who re-wrote portions of 
his Confessions sixty times, without feeling that 
they were consigned to the tread-mill for life ? It 
is said that M. Thiers, the Jupiter of the French 
Assembly, committed, burned, and re-wrote every 
speech three times before he permitted himself to 
deliver it. 

Notwithstanding the vast array of facts that can 
be brought forth from history to this point, the 
world is still crazy in its pursuit after a "genius," 
and insists that he can "shut his eyes and do the 
work with his left hand." We freely confess that 



PERSEVERANCE. 425 

some men seem to have a natural aptitude for 
preparation ; but aptitude never did any thing alone. 
Young men are pointed to Beecher and Spurgeon, 
Dom Pedro and Rothschild as examples of genius. 
These are mighty men, truly, but there is more than 
genius visible in their lives. Each of them puts 
through five or six common men's work every day 
they exist. They are not only gifted in seeing 
the main chance, but also in making that prepara- 
tion which shall enable them to seize it. Is not 
this one of the pre-requisites to perseverance ? Is 
it not one thing to snatch at an opportunity, and 
quite another to seize and hold it ? The Latins used 
to say: "Opportunity has hair in front; behind she 
is bald: if you seize her by the forelock, you may 
hold her; but if suffered to escape, not Jupiter 
himself can catch her again." 

Boston possesses the latest intellectual prodigy : 
Rev. Joseph Cook 'has the physique of a Titan. He 
looks like a Scandinavian king let loose on our 
shores. He is both omnipresent and omniscient — 
seeing every thing, and ready for every thing. He 
flits from library to museum as though he were 
shot through a pneumatic tube. To-day, he is 
with Bronson Alcott, roaming the hills of Cam- 
bridge ; to-morrow, with Whittier, standing on the 
sea-blown coast of Newburyport ; then back again, 
with bent knee and uplifted hands, at the tombs 
of Webster and Edwards, invoking their genius to 
inspire him. He catches his impulses from both 
the living and the dead. 



426 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

One hour he devotes to nature, the next to 
history and revelation. Every breeze and every 
book bring to him an atom of power ; every man 
of note, in every age, becomes his positive or nega- 
tive. He rushes from home to Tremont Temple 
like a money-jobber when gold falls six per cent., 
and mounts the rostrum, looking like an eagle, that 

" Watches from his mountain walls. 
And like a thunder-bolt he falls." 

His preludes, replete with brilliant remarks upon 
current events, contain more neatly -packed infor- 
mation than the editorials of a New York daily. 
His lecture proper resolves a problem into its simple 
elements with more thoroughness and ease than 
many an ambitious octavo. He manipulates, renews, 
adjusts and serves out theology to the magnates 
of Boston, with as much expertness and grace as 
though he were a Parisian dealing out confection- 
ery to the princes of the Tuileries. His progress 
can not be impeded, his positions contested, nor 
his rival found. The crooked -streeted, crooked- 
brained city of the sea sits dumb and pained under 
the strokes of his rhetorical flail. Every one feels 
that he must and he will have vent. Clarke and 
Hale, in his hands, are like rats in the jaws of an 
English terrier. Parker Pillsbury, himself a sufferer, 
exactly but bitterly expresses it, when admonishing 
another, in these laconic words : " Do not attack 
Mr. Cook ! You can not strike the ding out of a 
cow-bell!" 



PERSEVERANCE. 427 

No! You can't! Neither can you check the 
speed or break the power of an untiring giant, who 
has occupied his years in passing from nation to 
nation, library to library, school to school, and man 
to man, to gather up the knowledge he needs to do 
effective service for truth. This is the secret of 
success with Joseph Cook, added to which, for 
consideration, is his patient and thorough digestion, 
classification, and application of what he has 
acquired. 

Labor is not a curse, that men should be so 
religiously exact in freeing themselves from it ; 
neither is it disreputable. Study will only whet to 
a keener edge the sentences of an Everett or a 
Marshall. Of all the orators who have possessed 
an astonishing copiousness of words, only Patrick 
Henry and the Pitts have stood the test of time. 
Even the brilliant Irish orator, Phillips, knocks in 
vain for admission among recognized British mas- 
ters. It seems to be the fate of such men to fall 
into oblivion. 

Ready speaking is unparliamentary in the House 
of Commons and House of Lords. Unless "the 
noble gentleman" hems and haws, and sings his 
slow monotone, he is looked upon with suspicion 
as one who is perpetrating a joke. They have 
found by long experience that the arguments that 
are fraught with grave matter, probing down to the 
quick of the subject, can not be glibbed off trip- 
pingly on the tongue. The ponderous thoughts of 
a Webster or a Brougham — thoughts that settle 



428 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

the destiny of states, and that are read five hun- 
dred years after delivery with a thrill of ecstasy, 
have but little oratorical jingle in them. They are 
of slower, stronger growth than that, and brought 
forth with intenser travail. 

A straightforward, drudging perseverance will 
accomplish little without intellect to foster and sus- 
tain it. Intellect is necessary, also, to give it direc- 
tion. There are farmers who work just as hard as 
their neighbors, but never raise more than half the 
crop.. They persist in driving the wedge broad 
end foremost. They put forth a surplus of exer- 
tion, but seem unskilled in adjusting it to the right 
place. They are like Irving's Dutchman who, 
having a ditch to leap, went back so far to get a 
good run that when he got to the ditch he had to 
sit down to blow. 

In Xenophon's Memoirs, Socrates asks, " How is 
it that some men live in abundance and have 
something to spare, while others can scarcely obtain 
the necessaries of life, and at the same time run in 
debt?" Isomachus replies: " The reason is because 
the former occupy themselves with their business, 
while the latter neglect it." One may conduct 
business with energy and yet neglect it by mis- 
direction. The difference between men consists 
mainly in the amount of intelligence and energy 
they bring together. 

The advice of many lecturers on life and how 
to live it, is "to be up and at the first thing that 
comes along." But these blind and spasmodic 



PERSEVERANCE. 429 

efforts rarely accomplish much. Decide on the 
direction your energy should take, first of all ; then 
look down, for opportunity crouches at your feet! 
Life is too short, and vital force too much in 
demand for any labor to be thrown away on 
chance. 

Thomas Arnold declared that the difference 
between two boys consisted in energy rather than 
talents. Many of the Rugby boys owe their fame 
and fortune to the good Doctors appreciation of a 
prompt, herculean stroke. He instilled the prin- 
ciple of vigor into them till they were so full of it 
they leaped fences and ditches like race -horses. 
This, however, was all thoroughly controlled when 
they stepped within the school inclosure, for then 
they were on their honor. Such was his zeal for 
inculcating resolution that at times he was a trifle 
abrupt. One day he had been counseling a young 
man as to the necessity of seizing an occasion that 
had presented itself. "Yes, Doctor!" said he, "I see 
the chance, and I'll strike when the iron is hot." 
"You're a fool," said the Doctor, 'take up your 
hammer and make it hot." 

Many persons who have exhibited remarkable 
energy in one calling', rush into another, forgetting 
to take their training with them. Ministers who 
have toiled for years, in the study, under righteous 
resignation to a constant pulpit pressure, more 
exhausting in its influence than an air-pump, 
undertake literature, and are grief-stricken if, in six 
months, they are not written down as the peers of 



430 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Bulwer and George Eliot. They forget the long 
stretch of failure these novelists stemmed, before 
they began to monopolize attention. Mayor Hall, 
after a decided success in politics and law, gained 
by relentless adhesion to business, imagined himself 
a born actor ; but after impersonating a " born 
hero " in a most outrageous style, he kicked off his 
buskins in despair, and fled in shame to England. 

Olive Logan wrote saucy letters for the papers, 
and was on the road to universal favoritism, but was 
seized with the lecturing fever. One tour with her 
" Stage-Struck," so horrified her friends, that she 
said she would " play quits, drink Vichy, and push 
the quill." Anna Dickinson, winning merited 
applause on the platform, by her advocacy of bold 
reformatory measures, conceived that the pleasure- 
seeking world lacked a tragedienne, and she took to 
the stage. She thought in one brief season to walk 
by the foot-lights to glory. But empty benches, 
unappreciative audiences, and a hurricane of criti- 
cism so upset this Joan of Arc, that she sat down 
and cried like a school-girl. 

There are times when perseverance has been 
exercised with great success in maintaining a Ches- 
terfieldian grace and politeness. This social art is 
important in the management of men and measures. 
Persistent politeness often achieves what nothing 
else will. Ic was said to be more pleasure to be 
denied a favor by the Duke of Marlborough, than to 
receive one from other men. He could turn the 
most inveterate enemy into a friend, by a half-day's 



PERSEVERANCE. 431 

intercourse. His fascinating smile swayed the 
destinies of empires, and his charming- tongue and 
bows " kept together the members of the grand 
alliance against France, and directed them, in spite 
of their clashing interests, their jealousies and 
perpetual dissensions, to the main object of the war." 

The fascinating manners of Beau Brummel made 
him a welcome guest in every circle of society. He 
lived, courted and in splendor, without a dollar in 
his pocket. He was so captivating that even his 
tailor would sit up all night to finish his suit of 
clothes, when he knew that all the compensation 
he would get would be to bask in his smiles. It has 
even been said by wise ones, that manners make 
the man. They certainly go a long way in making 
the gentleman. 

A serene temperament, a suave speech, and the 
gallantry of a Richelieu under petty annoyances, 
or. before artful and stupendous opposition, will put 
to rout an opponent when an imperious mien will 
only serve to embolden him to greater resistance. 
The patience of a Bonaparte, who, in the face of 
winter and allied hosts, could dictate a kind letter 
to a tardy commissary "to hurry up those over- 
coats, as the boys were needing them," conquers 
armies ; while the petulant man, who flies to pieces 
at each provocation, creates the defeat he fears. 

It is said that the sunshine never left the face 
of Speaker Colfax, even in the most excited debates 
or fierce wrangles over his decisions from the chair. 
A happy manner was his key to the Speakership, 



432 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

and when he had smiled on the people, from 
Boston to San Francisco, they unanimously elected 
him Vice-President of the republic. His winning- 
graces, more than any speech he ever made, carried 
him to Congress for sixteen years, and his self- 
sacrifice in attending to every want, and answer- 
ing kindly every letter, from his own district or 
that of any other member, made him, during his 
terms, the most popular representative in the House. 

Unfortunately, some of our moral reformers are 
in the habit of permitting themselves to become so 
exasperated at the worlds ugliness before they 
start on their r mission, that their invectives make 
callous, rather than soften, the peoples hearts. 
Their severity calls for so much of our grace 
that we have nothing left for our own infirmities. 
William L. Yancey and Thad. Stevens were " mighty 
men of valor" for the days of battle, but to avert 
a war or secure peace, their hands possessed .no 
cunning. 

Alexander H. Stephens would pipe out of that 
frail tabernacle his cogent reasons for secession, 
and back them by his ruling as Vice-President of 
the Confederacy ; but it was all done with such an 
ineffable sweetness of manner, that the whole North 
admired him. Robert Toombs no sooner spoke 
than a yell of rage went up from every loyal 
throat. "It is not so much," said Mr Lincoln, " in 
what he says, as in the way he says it." Gail 
Hamilton will advocate "woman's rights" in a lec- 
ture, and all the men will go away mad ; Anna 



PERSEVERANCE. 433 

Dickinson will declare the same things on the 
next ' evening, and they will all turn away with a 
smile, and believe that Anna is about half right. 

This principle is vividly illustrated by one of 
Beecher's anecdotes. Two speakers, one an old 
Quaker, and the other a young man, full of fire, 
went out advocating the abolition of slavery. When 
the Quaker talked, the audience was all "ears;" 
every thing went smoothly ; the young nodded 
assent, and the thoughtful smiled approval. When 
the other man came to speak, the trouble began ; 
yells, and stones, and rotten eggs were their 
responses. It became so noticeable that he spoke 
to the Quaker about it. " Friend, you and I are 
on the same mission," said he, " and preach the 
same things ; how is it that, while you are received 
cordially, I get nothing but abuse?" The Quaker 
replied: "I will tell thee. Thee says — 'If you do 
so and so, you will be punished,' and I say — ' If 
you will not do so and so, you will not be pun- 
ished.'" They both had the same idea, but there 
was a great deal of difference in the way they 
expressed it. 

It is some times thought that courtesy is only 
another name for effeminacy, but the lives of many 
of the most valorous sons of history assure us that 
true courage and civility go hand in hand. The 
charming grace of Hannibal, as a man, stands in 
striking contrast to his impetuosity as a soldier. 
Although trained by nature and parentage to 

impersonate eternal vengeance, it seemed only to 

28 



434 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

increase his gallantry as a gentleman. It was his 
great sympathy for his soldiers that gave them 
heart to scale the Alps ; and when munitions of war 
and rations were cut short, his winning ways did 
more to allay feeling and assuage distress among 
his own forces than his elephants had done to 
destroy the army of Scipio. Sir John Franklin 
never turned his back upon danger, and yet he was 
a man of ineffable tenderness of soul. The Duke 
of Wellington was so habitually kind that, when 
sixty years old, he said : " I never had a quarrel 
with any man in my life." 

Grace is the crowning perfection of the toiler's 
character, and can only be won after long years of 
self-sacrifice and struggle. "A noble and attractive 
every-day bearing," says Huntingdon, "comes of 
goodness, of sincerity, of refinement. And these are 
bred in years, not moments. The principle that 
rules your life is the sure posture-master. Sir Philip 
Sidney was the pattern to all England of a perfect 
gentleman ; but then he was the hero that, on the 
field of Zutphen, pushed away the cup of cold water 
from his own fevered and parched lips, and held it 
out to the dying soldier at his side." 

All men can not wait for results with equal 
resignation. De Maistre says: "To know how to 
wait is the great secret of success." Temper in 
business, as in Christianity, is nine-tenths of the 
battle. A cool head and a quiet heart for the crown. 
Great ideas are not fruitful in an instant. They 
must have time to root themselves down and germi- 



PERSEVERANCE. 435 

nate, before they even appear above the surface. 
Abraham died. in faith, looking forward to a harvest 
of fruit, which he. as an individual, never realized. 
His mind was in acute sympathy with the growing 
ideas of the world. His pulse moved with the 
growing beat of human thought and eagerness. 
There was a wonderful life and spirit, spring and 
joyousness in a man that could go out from home, 
in that day, to an unknown land, and settle down 
hopefully. But he was standing on the threshold 
of a new world, with his eyes fixed on the future. 

Adam Smith sowed the seeds of social amelior- 
ation in the Wealth of Nations, but seventy years 
passed before any substantial results could be 
gathered. Bacon, like Abraham, lived a prophetic 
life, scattering oracles and pregnant sayings into the 
darkness all about him. Luther died with but a 
Pisgahs glimpse of the land he had led the 
children of bondage unto. 

Among the literary workers, Sir Walter Scott 
exhibited greater perseverance, and perhaps received 
less credit for it, than any other known author. He 
did the drudgery of a lawyer's office for a long 
time, using his evenings to acquaint himself with 
favorite authors. As a copying-clerk he was allowed 
three pence a page. He some times copied one 
hundred and twenty pages daily, from which he 
saved thirty dollars, in our money ; a fund that 
supplied him with the means for purchasing a few 
new books. He prided himself upon being a man 
of business, and contradicted the cant of sonnet- 



436 SUCCESS IN LIFE, 

eers, that there is a necessary connection between 
genius and a contempt for the common duties of 
life. 

While clerk to the Court of Sessions, at Edinburgh, 
he performed his literary work chiefly before 
breakfast, attending the court during the day. " On 
the whole," says Lockhart, " it forms one of the 
most remarkable features of his history that, 
throughout the most active period of his literary 
career, he must have devoted a large portion of 
his hours, during half at least of every year, to the 
conscientious discharge of professional duties." " On 
one occasion, he said: "I determined that literature 
should be my staff, not my crutch, and that the 
profits of my literary labor, however convenient 
otherwise, should not, if I could help it, become 
necessary to my ordinary expenses." 

He answered every letter the day it was received. 
Only his clock-like punctuality, cultivated in that 
lawyer's office, could ever have enabled him to 
keep abreast of the flood of communications that 
poured in upon him. He rose at five, dressed with 
deliberation, took a copious drink of water, fresh 
from the well, and by six sat down to his work. 
Every paper stood before him in military order; 
the books of reference were marshaled around him 
on the floor; and one handsome dog, some times 
two, guarded the anterior line. At nine he went to 
breakfast, " having done enough to break the neck 
of the day's work." With all his knowledge and 
wonderful industry, he spoke of his own powers 



PERSEVERANCE. 437 

with the greatest of diffidence. On one occasion 
he said, " Throughout every part of my career I 
have felt pinched and hampered by my own 
ignorance." 

Comte de Buffon illustrated his own saying, that 
"Genius is patience," by his tireless industry. I 
extract an account of him from Smiles' Self- Help, 
and am thereto indebted for the previous illustration : 

" Notwithstanding the great results achieved by 
him in natural history, Buffon, when a youth, was 
regarded as of mediocre talents. His mind was 
slow in forming itself, and slow in reproducing 
what it had acquired. He was also constitutionally 
indolent ; and, being born to good estate, it might be 
supposed that he would indulge his liking for ease 
and luxury. Instead of which, he early formed the 
resolution of denying himself pleasure, and devoting 
himself to study and self-culture. Regarding time 
as a treasure that was limited, and finding that he 
was losing many hours by lying abed in the morn- 
ings, he determined to break himself of the habit. 
He struggled hard against it for some time, but 
failed in being able to rise at the hour he had 
fixed. He then called his servant, Joseph, to his 
help, and promised him the reward of a crown 
every time that he succeeded in getting him up 
before six. At first, when called, Buffon declined 
to rise — pleaded that he was ill, or pretended 
anger at being disturbed; and on the Count at 
length getting up, Joseph found that he had earned 
nothing but reproaches for having permitted his 



438 SUCCESS IN LIFE, 

master to lie abed contrary to his express orders. 
At length the valet determined to earn his crown; 
and again and again he forced Buffon to rise, 
notwithstanding his entreaties, expostulations, and 
threats of immediate discharge from his service. 
One morning Buffon was unusually obstinate, and 
Joseph found it necessary to resort to the extreme 
measure of dashing a basin of ice-cold water under 
the bed-clothes, the effect of which was instan- 
taneous. By the persistent use of such means, 
Buffon at length conquered his habit ; and he was 
accustomed to say that he owed to Joseph three 
or four volumes of his Natural History." 

John Leyden was a Roxburghshire shepherd boy, 
who, while watching the flocks from the hill -side 
that overlooked the little valley, taught himself to 
write by copying the letters of a printed book. Like 
Ferguson, who became an astronomer while "tend- 
ing sheep on the knolls," so Leyden's mind lifted 
above the sheep, and was not contented without a 
book. A bare-footed boy, he walked across the 
moors some eight miles, every day. to recite his 
reading lesson to the dominie at Kirkton ; the 
remainder of his education he acquired himself, by 
dint of hard study and what he could gather from 
the manor-men who were willing to answer "that 
troublesome boy's questions." At last he bid poverty 
defiance, and entered college at Edinburgh. He 
gained his first notoriety by the frequency of his 
visits to Archibald Constable's corner — the book 
store. It was his wont to climb a ladder — for he 



PERSEVERANCE. 439 

had been so used to the hills — and, balancing him- 
self at the top, he would sit for hours, poring over 
some huge volume, forgetting the rye bread and 
water that waited for his appetite to whet up to a 
relish of its brain-building power. 

To read a book or hear a lecture supplied the 
cravings of his life as nothing else could. "Thus 
he toiled and battled at the gates of science, until 
his unconquerable perseverance carried every thing 
before it." At the age of twenty, he astonished 
the faculty of Edinburgh by the vastness of his 
general information, and could quote more Greek 
and Latin than any professor in the school. He 
longed to go to India, but had not the means. A 
surgeon's commission was given him, but he knew 
no more of medicine than one of his pet lambs. 
He could learn. He must pass examination in six 
months. Without a thought of failure, he set to 
work to acquire in six months what usually required 
three years. He took his degree with honor, and 
even found time, before he embarked, to publish his 
poem on The Scenes of Infancy. 

Some of the most illustrious achievements on 
mechanics and literature have been the natural 
product of perseverance. Their authors little antic- 
ipated the vast results that were to flow from them. 
They did the work to meet a present demand, and 
their indomitable energy drove them on until their 
labor was crowned with a perfection that will be 
fruitful forever. When those sturdy old fathers, 
who had to make their " mark," wrung Magna Charta 



440 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

from King John, for their present amelioration, they 
had no thought of buttressing the people's rights 
until England would become liberal and i\merica 
free, so that a man should be as great as a king. 
Man is so constructed that, if he will let any good 
desire within him have its perfect work, results will 
grow out of it his philosophy never dreamed of. 

When George Stephenson contrived to turn the 
waste steam of his engine up the chimney, so as to 
lessen the noise of its escape, he had no conception 
of the beneficial results accruing to mechanics. 
When he projected the self-acting incline along the 
declivity of the Willington ballast-quay, he did not 
know that this invention of his brain would take new 
form in an engine bearing a thousand lives over 
mountain and valley, at the rate of forty miles an 
hour. Milton toiled for long months over Paradise 
Lost. His soul was full of the great thought, 
and he must wreak it out in an epic, though it was 
labor like forging iron from the blast. He loved the 
darling child, but when Jacob Tonson, the publisher, 
said he could give but £5 for such a work, no 
wonder genius paled when it came to Paradise 
Regained. Could Milton have known that in one 
hundred years the copyright would be worth one 
hundred thousand dollars, and his heaven-born 
raptures would feed the imagination of orators and 
poets innumerable, he would have felt that his 
persistence in having every sentence "just so," 
would have its own reward. 

No less forcible are the examples where consci- 



PEBSEVEBANGE. 441 

entious effort to do the whole duty has borne its 
high results. The mighty reformation of John 
Wesley started in his endeavor to promote personal 
piety among the members of the Established Church. 
Holiness gained such an impetus by the godly man's 
life and persistent proclamation, that the Establish- 
ment was not large enough to contain it. The 
tidal-wave of a " new consecration " swept over the 
breakwaters of sectarianism, and before Mr. Wesley's 
death, the Methodist itinerant's voice rang from 
Christ's Hospital to the jungles of Africa, and 
across the forests and rivers of the new continent. 
Everywhere people were made to feel the warmth 
which a "little fire" had kindled. 

The Syn-Chronological Chart of S. C. Adams 
had its origin in the author's efforts to illustrate to 
a Sunday school the contemporaneous events of 
history. Like the young artist who took his first 
lessons in drawing with a burnt stick on a barn 
door, Adams undertook to exhibit the religious and 
profane history of the same date, by lines and 
pictures drawn on a " sheet of foolscap." The 
efforts soon interested the entire school. The author 
early found them of value to himself in his studies, 
and they came to be a necessity in the day-school 
room. Finally, aften ten years of labor — labor such 
as few men have ever given to any subject — he has 
knocked the tangle out of the web of history, and 
put on his canvas, to the comprehension of a single 
glance, the contemporaneous acts, inventions, discov- 
eries, and founding and decay of empires, as the 



442 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

nations have marched down the path of time — a 
volume of inestimable value to school-room, scholar, 
and statesman. 

The greater portion of the illustrious men of 
England have come from the ranks, notwith- 
standing it is a land of caste and inheritance. And 
the difficulty of attaining a ,success that will be 
recognized in such a land, can hardly be appreciated 
in this country. Admiral Hobson was a tailor's 
apprentice, but the appearance of a squadron of 
men-of-war excited in him a desire for the sea. 
Accepted on board as a volunteer, he fled the shop 
without warning, but twenty years afterward, full of 
honor, he came back to the cottage at Bonchurch, 
and dined off bacon and beans. When he broke 
the boom at Vigo, he broke the back of caste, and 
wrenched from the king's hand an admiral's hat. 
Sir Cloudesley Shovel began his career as a cabin- 
boy, and Cook, the navigator, worked many years as 
a common day-laborer. Noticing some handsomely- 
dressed boys at Eton, Lagrange said, " Had / been 
rich, I should probably not have become a 
mathematician." 

The elegant and eloquent John Erskine had the 
upper-blood in his veins, but it was unfortunately 
not backed by the necessary passport to society. 
Miserably poor, but grandly defiant of his fortunate 
relations, he said : (( Industry is worth more than a 
peerage;" and his name to-day outranks them all, 
and he is the peer of peers. Shakspeare's family 
was so humble that he never cared to reveal its 



PERSEVERANCE. 443 

true character, and he has left only the impression 
that he was a wool-comber; but he has been set 
down as a scrivener's clerk, usher, and many other 
things. Like Charles Dickens, the battlings of his 
early years, from pillar to post, wherever a penny 
or a crust might be earned, made him " all mankind's 
epitome." 

The many parts he had played gave him an 
inexhaustible bank, whence he checked out passion 
and speeches for his players. li For such is the 
accuracy of his sea-phrases that a naval writer 
alleges that he must have been a sailor ; while a 
clergyman infers, from internal evidence of his 
writings that he was probably a parson's clerk; 
and a distinguished judge of horse-flesh insists 
that he must have been a horse-dealer." When he 
played at the theater, he was known to spend the 
greater part of his nights after the " piece " in 
writing — while the inspiration was on him — and the 
day was given to the study of history. His writings 
have doubtless exercised a powerful influence on the 
morals of the English throne, and been a large 
factor in molding the character of the nation. 

Even the peerage itself has "stooped" and plucked 
many of its brightest stars from the ranks. Smiles 
says: "One reason why the peerage of England 
has succeeded so well in holding its own, arises 
from the fact that, unlike the peerages of other 
countries, it has been fed, from time to time, by 
the best industrial blood of the country — the very 
"liver, heart, and brain of Britain." Like the fabled 



444 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Antaeus, it has been invigorated and refreshed by 
touching its mother earth, and mingling with that 
most ancient order of nobility — the working order." 

Lord Tenterden was a barber's son. Family 
necessities compelled the father to keep the boy 
to shave the commoner class and stick on the 
leeches. It is thought he bled as many with the 
razor as he did with the leeches ; but, on the father's 
death, the shop was abandoned, and the boy went 
to shift for himself. He could whistle and sing, 
but that was about all he seemed good for ; so his 
mother sought for him a place in the choir at the 
cathedral. Here he remained a few months, and 
was then displaced by a former singing rival. 

This disappointment diverted his thoughts to 
another channel, and changed his whole career. 
He determined to do something in which he could 
rely on himself, and he did it. His struggle for 
independence was severe and long, but, because he 
was independent, he succeeded. He conquered the 
King's Bench, and took his seat as Lord Chief 
Justice. When he and Mr. Justice Richards were 
traveling the Home Circuit together, they attended 
services at the old cathedral; and on the Justice 
complimenting the voice of a certain man in the 
choir, Lord Tenterden replied: "Ah! that is the 
only man I ever envied ! When at school in this 
town, we were candidates for a chorister's place, 
and he obtained it." 




CHAPTER XXI. 

PERSEVERANCE. 

[CONTINUED.] 

ANY a young man is forever ruined because 
he gets an agency or clerkship, and feels 
certain of fifty dollars a month. He looks fondly 
forward to the time when he will be proprietor of 
that business himself, but he feels happy over his 
fifty dollars, with little to do. He never feels a 
need of putting his idle moments in — to do for 
his employer such extra work as was not bargained 
for. He never feels that he is one of the partners 
of that firm, and that its success is his advance- 
ment — he never studies the steps that led the 
head of the firm into his present position — nor 
seems to realize that his doing more work than 
any man in the employment is what keeps him 
there. These are the things clerks that sit around 
never think of. They despise the spirit of the 
cellar drudgery that brought Frank Longley to an 
affluent partnership. They propose to glide their 
way over a gilt track, riding into preferment upon 
a palace -car. 

445 



446 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Never accept a clerkship except as a stepping- 
stone. Use it as a means of rising higher. It 
saps all the independence out of a man. It breaks 
down his spirit. It destroys his self-reliance, and 
frequently turns him into a ninny. Better control 
your own business, at five hundred a year, than fag 
for another at a thousand. You may not make so 
much money — though we believe it is not the 
experience of clerks now-a-days to grow rich — but 
in mental thrift and manhood you will clear a large 
per cent. 

Push on to victory. Rather than settle down 
satisfied with a moderate stipend, muster up cour- 
age and "go West" — go to the woods — GO 
ANYWHERE that shall compel you to assert 
your individuality; and, from the scaffolding of 
genuine exertion, build up a genuine manhood, call- 
ing no man master. 

Lord Langdale was on the brink of despair 
several times before the world recognized his talents, 
and even then he did not reach fame by any sudden 
flight. Born the son of a poor surgeon, he was 
educated for that profession. But limited practice 
and extreme poverty served to increase young 
Bickersteth's dislike for a calling that had been 
distasteful to him from the very beginning. He now 
determined to plead at the bar. 

Slowly his star advanced. His mind was burdened, 
night and day, by the cause of his client, as the 
river bears the great vessel to its destiny. And 
there were no rapids in his current — it was a steady, 



PERSEVERANCE. 447 

straightforward stream. He never said a brilliant 
thing, but he was always profoundly in earnest. He 
never made a great speech, but he always made a 
good one. He never did any thing for glory. He 
was a conscientious worker. He always knew the 
law in the case, and knew how to apply it. His 
perseverance and honest work brought to his door 
more clients than he could wait upon, and the after- 
noon of his life was crowned with wealth and 
reputation, and a seat in the House of Peers, as 
Baron Langdale. 

Lord Ellenborough was a man of the Dr. Johnson 
stamp, so conscious of his superiority over common 
men, that it marred every thing he said and did. 
But though destined to attain merit, he did not 
attempt it at the neglect of perseverance. He 
knocked at the door of the Inner Temple several 
years longer than Langdale before it opened unto 
his command. He never tired of study. He would 
turn the old, musty law records over and over, with 
peculiar delight. And at times, when he grew sated 
with all study and no practice, he would get down 
his great motto, that he had scrawled on a paste- 
board square : " Read or starve," and feast his aching 
eyes, until his stomach asked for another book. 

Just before his unlooked-for employment as one 
of the attorneys of Warren Hastings, he wrote this 
to Archdeacon Coxe : " Let us cheerfully push our 
way in our different lines ; the path of neither of 
us is strewed with roses, but they will terminate in 
happiness and honor. I can not, however, now and 



448 SUCCESS IF LIFE. 

then help sighing, when I think how inglorious an 
apprenticeship we both of us serve to ambition, 
while you teach a child the rudiments, and I drudge 
the pen for attorneys. But if knowledge and a 
respectable position are to be purchased only on 
these terms, I, for my part, can readily say, Hac 
mercede placet!' 

Position and wealth are not able to cope with 
perseverance. Many jealous do-nothings prate 
about the power of money and aristocracy. But 
the Samsons tear off the gates of this Gaza, and 
pass through their walls at pleasure. 

The most distinguished divines have come to 
eminence over a thorny path, and some of them 
have traveled to Jerusalem by the "Jericho road." 
No poor traveler that had been set upon by thieves, 
was ever left in a more piteous plight than John 
Wesley, when he started for the pulpit, having just 
closed an "interview" with his wife, the "widow 
Vizelle." Henry Ward Beecher began his pulpit 
efforts on three hundred dollars a year, was 
preacher, pastor, and sexton, and says he was glad 
of the chance. With all his splendid talents, noth- 
ing short of perseverance that amounted almost to 
a lofty genius, enabled Francis Wayland to become 
President of Brown University,^ and stamp the 
literature of his denomination with a new life. So 
poor he was able to take but one theological year 
at Andover; so poorly clad he was kept out of 
society while there ; so proud he would neither beg 
nor borrow, for the rayless future gave no hope ol 



PERSE VERAXCE. 449 

means to repay; so determined to get on that, 
when he had to decide between an overcoat and 
Schleusner's Lexicon, he walked fast or stayed at 
home to supply the need of a coat, and bought the 
book; so resolved to adorn his profession that, in 
spite of these harassments and slender opportuni- 
ties, he retired from Andover in great credit; and 
so accomplished that he stepped to the pastorate 
of the First Baptist Church in Boston. 

His first great effort at discourse, "The Moral 
Dignity of the Missionary Enterprise," created no 
impression, and was a complete failure. But, it 
"happened" to be published, and created such an 
interest that it ran through several editions. It 
put a new missionary spirit into his own brethren, 
and rekindled the smoldering fires in many dyingf 
societies. Within three years from that sermon he 
went to the Presidency of Brown University. 

Xavier Thiriat was of poor parentage, and at 
ten years of age became so hopelessly crippled that 
he could only move about by crawling on his 
hands and knees. But the little boy who had 
plunged into the water and received a life-paralysis 
in the saving of a child, was father to the man ; 
for the invincible vim of his after life was doubt- 
less indicated by the bravery of his boyhood. He 
borrowed books, for the family could not buy, and 
paid the little girl who brought and returned them^ 
by telling her the stories he read. His newspaper 
articles soon attracted attention, and money and. 

opportunities for his labor soon showered upon 
29 



450 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

him. But he scorned to be a pauper, and con- 
tended that " perseverance was all any man needed, 
blind or halt, to earn a living." He became a 
botanist, meteorologist, and geologist, and won the 
gold medal of the French Franklin Society. 

Even the sublimest of arts, oratory, the great 
masters tell us, is not born, but cultivated, in men. 
^schines won the affections of the people, and 
bore his vast audiences on the tide of his rolling 
sentences to the haven of his conclusions, as the 
mighty waves bear onward the great ships. But 
no man appreciated more keenly the value of prep- 
aration, and he surely paid the successful man's 
price for the great reputation he acquired. Half 
the day, for twenty-five days before delivering a 
certain oration, was spent in the practice of gesture, 
posture, modulation, and emphasis ; and the other 
half was spent in sharpening his sentences and 
polishing the words. He claimed that no man 
could become a great orator without incessant 
drill. To this end he established his famous school, 
to which even Cicero went, and, doubtless, by so 
doing, won much of his perfection. 

England has perhaps produced no greater orator 
than Sir Robert Peel. A man of ordinary abilities, 
he came, by cultivation, to be the most persuasive 
speaker in the House of Commons. At five years 
of age, his father would stand him on a table and 
say : " Robin, make us a speech, and I will give you 
this cherry." The family never failed to applaud 
the efforts of the little fellow, and on doing better 



PEES E VEEAXCE. 451 

than usual, the father would pat him on the head. 
and say : "Well done, my boy! you'll make the 
powdered wigs tremble some da}"." He would read 
a passage in a book every day, and, while his father 
held the book, would declaim as much of it as ne 
could. On coming from the parish church of a 
Sunday morning, he passed at once to the study, 
and rehearsed all of the sermon he could remem- 
ber, and then criticised the pronunciation and style 
of the preacher. Thus his habit of attention grew 
powerful, and at the age of twenty he could repeat 
an hour's speech almost verbatim. When he came 
in Parliament to reply to the" all-day speeches" of 
his opponents, and. without notes, took up the argu- 
ments in succession, stating them clearlv and fullv. 
to the astonishment of his hearers and defeat of 
his adversary, no one suspected that old Drayton 
Church and the drill of an ambitious father had 
made him this Mirabeau oi the House. 

Wendell Phillips is a man of extraordinary parts 
by nature, but even he did not become "the most 
splendid orator of America" until, like Michael 
Angelo (who often went a week without taking 
off his clothes), he brought himself to the head of 
his profession by stud}", and not by genius. After 
having selected a subject on which to write, he 
cons it over for weeks, so that the mind becomes 
thoroughly saturated with it. oozing at every pore 
He then shuts himself up for days, giving way 
wholly to the thought. By this time he has 
digested everv idea connected with the theme ; 



452 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

then, as the mountain can not hold its volcanic 
force in chains forever, so with pen and paper he 
finds vent, letting the pent-up lava of his soul 
burst forth. The speech once written, one would 
think the work done ; but it has just begun. 

With reference-books he examines every state- 
ment; then, controlled by his high standard of vigor 
and brevity, he cuts and slashes through sentences 
and paragraphs, paring, slicing, splitting, or rooting 
out summarily. Thus he purges away all the dross, 
and leaves only pure metal. Now he takes dic- 
tionary and thesaurus, and travels patiently over 
every word, expunging every one of double or 
doubtful meaning, replacing with the simplest 
phrases, yet the richest and most comprehensive 
that language affords. This lecture, that now 
stands, like the queen's crown, valuable within 
itself, but dazzling with the luster of its precious 
settings, is next committed to memory, and then 
the painstaking care of a Charles Sumner before 
his full-length mirror, training every facial expres- 
sion and posture of arm, sets him to the pro- 
duction in perfection. Now, and not until now, 
he opens his lips on the rostrum. Scholars are 
delighted with his ornate periods, and astonished 
at the precision of his knowledge ; and, while he 
buries his great audiences under a mass of infor- 
mation, it is all done with such ease that they 
look upon it only as an outburst of the great 
oracle. 

How many "impromptu bursts of genius" that 



PERSEVERANCE. 453 

astonish the court, melt the pew-holders, or cave in 
the heads of the hardy yeomanry, by their Titanic 
grasp, have been elaborated in the study will never 
be known. But, fortunately for the encouragement 
of the struggling youth of our day, almost all of the 
" giants " have left on record denials of spontaneous 
power ; they have persisted that their knowledge 
came by slow accretions, as the insects build the 
coral strands ; and that the ability to utilize effect- 
ively these acquirements, was only attained after 
years of persevering application. 

These giants are, with rare exceptions, self-made 
men. Inured to toil ; used to knocking every 
obstacle out of their way with a sledge-hammer ; in 
the habit of toiling like the very beasts of the field, 
and eating their meals with a dripping brow, they 
become so accustomed to paying out labor for all 
they get, that a result not self-purchased would startle 
them beyond measure. Thus these men unselfishly 
toil, and their simple-hearted virtue becomes their 
lever of preferment. 

Colonel Baker graphically pictured our successful 
men in one sentence of his masterly oration ov*er 
the murdered Broderick : "He rose unaided and 
alone ; he began his career without family or fortune, 
in the face of difficulties ; he inherited poverty and 
obscurity ; he died a Senator in Congress, having 
written his name in the history of the great 
struggle for the rights of the people, against the 
despotism of organization, and the corruption of 
power." 



454 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Colonel Baker himself was a self-made man, and 
one of the most entrancing of orators. On his 
return from the Mexican war, in an ovation that was 
tendered him, he delivered one of the most eloquent 
speeches of his life, and apparently on the spur of 
the moment. A curious literary friend said to him, 
next day : " Colonel, how long did it take you to get 
up that speech?" "Forty-two years, sir." Baker 
was just that age. Edward Everett once assigned 
as his reason for declining to deliver an oration 
before an Eastern college, that he had "but six weeks 
for preparation." 

Facility is gained by labor. Any man of mediocre 
talents may acquire excellence in the field of his 
predilections, and may acquire it with great rapidity, 
if he will serve a long enough apprenticeship. But 
unless one will practice a half-hour a day for fifteen 
years, in extempore speaking, as Henry Clay did, he 
need not expect his impromptu efforts to be remem- 
bered very long. To be able, with The Wizard of 
the North — Sir Walter Scott — to fling off forty 
pages a day, and send them to the press without a 
revising glance, demands his patient drill and thirty ' 
years of perseverance. If, with Gibbon, you would 
send " the last three quarto volumes of an immortal 
history uncopied to the press," you must first spend a 
life-time in getting ready to do it. If you would have 
the golden speech of John Philpot Curran, whose 
commonest utterance in conversation gleamed with 
a luster that Chesterfield could not impart to his 
most polished sentence, take those lips to a master, 



PERSEVERANCE. 455 

and assiduously guard the inflection of every 
syllable. 

The great conversers, writers, and orators have 
gone through an amount of study, memorizing, and 
copying, that of itself would be more work than most 
men perform in a life-time. Opie, the painter, was 
never satisfied with any of his works, and while 
giving the finishing strokes to his pictures, would step 
back to scrutinize. Beholding the deformity that 
his eye alone could detect, with a groan of despair 
he would rush into his wife's sitting-room, and 
flinging himself on the sofa, exclaim : " I know I 
shall never make a painter!" That inability to do 
justice to his conceptions was the scorpion which 
stung him up to produce immortal works. The 
difference between ephemeral and immortal works, 
in nine-tenths of the cases, consists in the polish 
that perseverance puts on. 

Thomas Erskine, whose matchless gestures and 
mellifluous tones doubtless added a great deal to 
the force of his sentences, acknowledged that per- 
sistent study of Burke assisted the graces of his 
own generous diction more than any thing else. 
He possessed a passion for this author, reading him 
so constantly that he could quote many of his 
eloquent strains, page after page, almost verbatim. 
It was the transfusing of Burke's higher self into 
his own flexible and adroit nature — a very happy 
oratorical cross — that gave the world a style as 
original as it was dashing and elegant. 

Lord Chesterfield tells us he determined to acquire 



456 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

a polished diction while yet a school -boy, and set 
himself to the task like a work -horse. He carefully 
treasured every brilliant sentence in a lecture, and 
carried it from the hall, in a book prepared for 
that purpose. No new word could escape the devour- 
ing- ear of this Dionysius ; no elegant phrase in 
conversation missed his grasp; no old word came 
tip in a new setting, but he would snatch it as a 
pilferer would a " diamond set to gold," and make 
off with it to his den. He copied every fine pas? 
sage he met with in reading, and filled whole 
blank-books with these elegancies translated for- 
ward and backward through the German, French, 
and English, and sometimes through Greek and 
Latin. By this method he sought to seize the 
richness of every tongue, and pour it on to his 
English page. A certain eloquence, he says, at 
last became habitual to him, and it would have 
given him more trouble to express himself inele-' 
gantly than ever he had taken to avoid the defect. 
Twelve years on the coast with a mouthful of 
pebbles was not able to make Demosthenes the 
orator of the ages. No ; he spoke in Athens, and 
something more than gesture and intonation was 
required. He must have words — not simple fluency, 
but words — 'mint-coined; words u to express the most 
varying emotions of the mind by a suitable and 
ever-changing rhythm ;" words echoing thunder and 
bursting with lightning ; words inspired by the 
associations of the Areopagus, and marshaled to 
order by the " Master of Arts." To this end did 



PERSEVERANCE. 457 

the orator of Athens transcribe Thucydides again 
and again. And it is this splendid citadel of sculp- 
tured sentences that has maintained his eloquence 
through the centuries. 

Moore wrote with the patience of Gray and the 
fastidiousness of Pope. He said that "labor is the 
parent of all the lasting wonders of the world." 
Truly did he labor on that little wonder, Lalla 
Rookh. After he had spent years in gathering the 
materials, scouring over Persia and all the Orient 
for illustrations, and had the work largely toward 
completion, he several times came near giving it 
up in despair. Nothing but his children crying for 
bread, and the prospect of three thousand pounds 
when the poem was through the press, ever brought 
it to completion. He worried over each word, like 
Virgil over the ^Eneid, and not a single line was 
published as it was originally penned. Goldsmith 
composed The Traveller at the rate of twenty lines 
a day; but Moore felt that ten lines was a levi- 
athan's load. He was continually searching for the 
right word. Washington Irving was once riding 
in the streets of Paris with Moore, when their 
hackney coach, plunging into a deep rut, came out 
with such a jerk as to send their heads against 
the roof. "By Jove! I've got it!" cried Moore, 
clapping his hands with glee. "Got what?" said 
Irving. " Why," said the poet, " that word I Ve been 
hunting for six weeks, to complete my last song. 
That rascally driver has jolted it out of me." 

Many pages might be filled recounting the patient 



458 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

perseverance of our own great writers and speakers 
— of Webster, Marshall, Calhoun, and Clay; of 
Whittier, Longfellow, Bryant, and Holmes ; of 
Edward Everett, Washington Irving, and James 
Russell Lowell — men who have traveled over con- 
tinents of books for illustrations, and ground every 
sentence down on the refining- stone of criticism 
till it flashes like a dew-drop. 

There is space for but one more illustration, and 
it will be occupied by reference to Professor Will- 
iam Mathews, a writer of the present day. His 
books are having an immense sale, and will surely 
be read in the future. He wields a facile pen, 
abounding in rich suggestions of thought, and 
reveals a Comstock lode of information. He is a 
traveling encyclopedia. Some men read one book. 
Leibnitz spent his leisure hours upon one chosen 
author ; Dante thumbed Virgil " from early morn 
till dewy eve;" Harriet Martineau loved one book; 
Butler toyed over one page for an entire day; the 
great infidel, Voltaire, drew his inspiration from 
Massillon ; Lord Chatham sponged the pages of 
the Saintly Barrow until he held those mighty 
sermons by heart ; and ' Renan would rather read 
the Sermon on the Mount than Tom Paine or 
Confucius. But Mathews, The Wizard of the Lake- 
shore City, with "anaconda -like digestion," has 
browsed on every sublime, brilliant, and witty sen- 
tence, from Moses to Emerson, from the ^Emeid to 
Helen's Babies. 

He recites heroic deeds with beautiful simplicity, 



PERSEVERANCE. 459 

and points the minutest detail more carefully than 
Charles Lamb did a letter that it took him seven 
days to write. He is acquainted with every valu- 
able passage of all the great authors ; he knows 
how many hours Caesar slept of a night, how many 
lines Scott could throw off in a day, and why 
Homer sang on the shores of Greece. He knows 
"how high was Alexander," how much " The wasp of 
Twickenham" weighed, how many ounces of food 
Pascal ate at a meal, and how many pounds King 
Hal devoured. He knows why Bonaparte lost 
Waterloo, and what kind of wine Belshazzar drank 
at the great feast. In short, every historical fact 
that is worth knowing is shelved away in this 
man's cranium. He is the envy of all the writers 
and the delight of all the readers. 

His sentences are like charm -snakes — one can 
hardly keep himself out of them. The author of 
this volume has been rasped beyond measure by 
the trick of his words and the area of his ideas. 
For seven years I have culled the newspapers for 
every practical life-thought ; gleaned every reliable 
anecdote from books, magazines and men ; played 
"hooky" with the kernel of every lecture, and, when 
ready to take up my materials and write, I turned 
to see what others had said, when, behold! 
Mathews had secured and sharpened up every 
point already, nailing them all in his inimitable 
books. At first, my head dropped in a spell of 
despair, saying to myself: 



460 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

' Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world 
Like a Colossus ; and we petty men 
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about 
To rind ourselves dishonorable graves." 

Then I took courage again, like Audubon, and shot 
forth to find fresh specimens. I've got some; but 
this book must be run through the press like 
melted lightning, or he will have them all, and be 
out ahead of me. 

Professor Mathews has hung over the fine pas- 
sages of literature as Plato soaked his mind in the 
sayings of Socrates. All of the seed thoughts he 
has carefully stored away, and made them his com- 
panions. His patient toil is now rewarded; every 
page of his writings is set with pithy illustrations, 
and every thought comes dancing in its own sun- 
light to the dawn. 

The men of science have exhibited as great per- 
severance as any other "workers, although they are 
less certain of results than the trader, speaker, 
or writer. Sir Humphrey Davy extemporized the 
greater part of his instruments for experimenting 
out of the odd pans and vessels in the back room 
of the drug-store. Faraday heard one of Davy's 
lectures, and, while yet a book -binder, began his 
electrical experiments with an old' bottle. When 
twenty years of age, Davy registered in his note- 
book, in his hopeful way, the determination of his 
life : " I have neither riches, nor power, nor birth to 
recommend me; yet, if I live, I trust I shall not be 
of less service to mankind and my friends than if 



PEBSEVEBANCE. 461 

I had been born with all these advantages." The 
apothecary's boy finally bid adieu to his mortar and 
pestle, and went to the head of the Royal Institu- 
tion of London. 

Cuvier, the distinguished French naturalist, fortu- 
nately discovered a volume of Buffon, when he was 
ten years old, and by the time he was twelve had 
all the " animals of creation " painted on bits of 
paper, and knew their names and descriptions by 
heart. The Duke of Wtirtemberg sent him to the 
Academy of Stuttgart, where one of the professors 
gave him a copy of the System of Nature, by 
Linnaeus; and this was his library on natural his- 
tory for eight years. While tutor for a family in 
Normandy, he found a cuttle-fish stranded on the 
beach. It was the first practical lesson that had 
ever been presented to him, so he took it home, 
and, alone in his room, with the fish and his one 
book, he commenced the study of the mollusk. 

He then began his comparisons of fossils with 
living species, spending every spare hour from the 
school-room in the one research. He raced the 
country over, through bog and fen, rocky hill and 
ocean beach, until his health was seriously impaired. 
The obscure youth felt so positive that there ought 
to be a reform in the classification of animals, that 
he ventured to write to Geoffrey St. Hilaire, suggest- 
ing it. When Abbe Teissier wrote up to Paris, 
making the young naturalist's bow for him, he said: 
"You remember that it was I who eave Delambre 
to the Academy in another branch of science. 



462 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

This also will be a Delambre." The professors 
discovered that young Cuvier, in the poverty of his 
Normandy fastness, while fondling the living and 
dissecting the dead, had carved out a new path for 
natural science in which she must hereafter walk. 
Meanwhile Cuvier steadily pursued his observations 
and writings, thus fulfilling Teissier's prediction. 

The Italian cardinal, Bembo, found time to slip 
from the arms of the beautiful Morosina, and could 
leave his duties as secretary to Leo X long enough 
to "promote" his essays and dissertations. He had 
a writing desk with thirty pigeon-holes. When an 
article was written it was placed in hole one. 
When he found time he would come back and go 
over it carefully and advance it to the next. At 
another time he would cull out or add to, and send 
it a step higher, and so on he would go with 
unwearied patience until the article had scaled the 
last ditch, and then it was ready for the bishops 
and cardinals. 

When Robert Hall was correcting his sermon 
on Modern Infidelity, on coming to that famous 
passage, " Eternal God, on what are thy enemies 
intent ? What are those enterprises of guilt and 
horror, that, for the safety of their performers, 
require to be enveloped in a darkness which the 
eye of Heaven must not penetrate?" — he exclaimed 
to Dr. Gregory : " Penetrate / did I say penetrate, 
sir, when I preached it?" "Yes." "Do you think, 
sir, I may venture to alter it ? for no man who 
considers the force of the English language would 



PERSEVERANCE. 463 

use a word of three syllables there but from abso- 
lute necessity. Y or penetrate put pierce — pierce is 
the word, sir, and the only word,%o be used there." 
Sheridan used to go to hear Rowland Hill, because 
his ideas ''came red- hot'' The golden -mouthed 
Chrysostom prepared his sermons with painful care, 
while Beecher is so desirous of being understood 
that words of four syllables are almost strangers 
to his sermons. 

Example is infectious. To this end, the great 
Apostle said : " Provoke one another to good works." 
The Chinese knew the worth of this lash, and 
started their anecdote before the Apostle's injunc- 
tion : "A student threw down his book, disheartened, 
when, seeing a woman rubbing a crowbar on a stone, 
he inquired the reason, and was told she wanted a 
needle, and thought she would rub down the crow- 
bar until she got it small enough. Provoked by 
her example of patience, he resumed his studies, 
and became one of the three foremost scholars in 
the Celestial Empire." On being asked his secret, 
Turner replied: "I have no secret but hard work. 
This is a secret that many never learn, and they 
do n't succeed because they do n't learn it. Labor 
is the genius that changes the world from ugliness 
to beauty, and the great curse to a great blessing." 





©tigutalitg* 



There is a great power in individuality. A man has half 
won the battle of life when he has learned how to keep him- 
self out of other people. — W. T. Moore. 

The force of his own merit makes his way. 

Shakspeare. 

Examples demonstrate the possibility of success. — Colton. 

I am as free as Nature first made man, 
Ere the base laws of servitude began. 

Dryden. 





CHAPTER XXII. 

ORIGINALITY. 

HIS is the era when Solomon's statement — 
"There is nothing new under the sun" — 
needs to be reversed. Every thing now "under 
the sun" seems new. Some Yankee has invented 
the telephone, by which he proposes to sere- 
nade the folks at Providence with the music 
played at Boston. Keeley proposes to abolish 
steam, and drive engines with a spoonful of cold 
water. And a philosophic fiddler has come to 
light who proposes by vibrations of musical sounds 
to sever the chains which suspend our vast bridges. 
In most of the callings of life, genius is at a 
discount, unless it includes the genius of originality. 
A man would pine away if he depended merely 
on the grit of endurance. There must be some- 
thing worth while to endure for, or one would as 
well quit. The old methods are swiftly passing 
into oblivion ; stereotyped rules are breaking ; every 
business is crying out for a new management. No 
merchant thinks now-a-days of "making a run" on 
old styles; actors become "bright, particular stars;" 
physicians make their regular professional tours; 
30 465 



466 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

grocers, dry-goods men, and hardware men have 
their runners out all over the country with samples. 
If doctors can not get a patient, they ride to and 
fro anyhow ; if lawyers can not secure a retaining 
fee, they retain themselves rather than be idle in 
the courts. 

To get on now, one must be both fresh and 
phenomenal. This was one of the secrets of 
Martin Luther's success with the masses. In a dis- 
cussion over the driest dogmas, he would rise into 
the grandest outbursts of eloquence at unlooked-for 
times, confound his opponent, and rush his congre- 
gation on to his conclusions by the torrent of his 
rhetorical logic. George Francis Train, in his day, 
commanded more attention than any other man on 
the American continent, receiving the highest prices 
for his lectures; yet he was nothing if not phenomenal. 
The world often cries "crotchet" if a man persists 
in doing a thing after the fashion of his own 
mind ; but these are the men who are always 
heard and always well paid. If Harvey had ceased 
his advocacy of blood circulation because one-half 
of the world cried "knave," and the other "fool," we 
might to-day have been ignorant of the use of the 
veins. 

The marked men of the world have been men 
of large individuality. Bacon and Buckle never 
waited for the apocalyptic angel to say "write." 
They found a door, forced it open, and entered ; 
they spoke with authority, and their oracular utter- 
ances were always the precursors to victory. 



ORIGINALITY. 467 

Some men possess individuality, but they are 
afraid to assert it. They have confidence in all 
the world, but none in themselves. They are 
always playing the part of Cautious in the dialogue 
with Fidus : 

Fidus — Think you, Cautious, that right is right? 

Cautious — The question which you ask is one too hard 
For me alone to answer in direct words. 
So then, if right is not right, they sound alike, 
And this sound itself doth lead me to think 
There may be some affinity between the words. 
But this I will not now decide. Before 
We meet again, perhaps, the problem 
Will have passed through other heads, 
And coming to me without its mystery, 
I may, perchance, give some decision, 
Though it be just as wrong as right is right. 

" Such men," says W. T. Moore, " expend their 
force on space. In life's great conflicts, where 
decision and individual action are necessary, they 
hide themselves behind a fortress of trembling 
ifs % or seek safety in the mysterious windings of 
endless circumlocutions. If you would be a man, 
you must stand up and look the world in the face; 
not impudently, but firmly. Be sure that the world 
sees you before you sit down. You have a right 
to be seen, if you are a man, and if you are not a 
man, then beg the world to put baby clothes on 
you, and send you back to the nursery." 

Men of large individuality do their own thinking, 
and are always ready to assume the responsibility 
of their conduct. There is no hesitancy in their 



468 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

utterance; no uncertain meaning in their speech. 
Louis XIV won more with his words than with 
his sword. John J. Crittenden tells how this ele- 
ment in a man makes him overleap all barriers, 
and carry his point literally by storm, when he 
gives an instance of the Great Commoners experi- 
ence with the Missouri question : 

"It was in an evening sitting, while this question 
was yet in suspense, Mr. Clay had made a motion 
to allow one or two members to vote who had 
been absent when their names were called. The 
Speaker (Mr. Taylor), who, to a naturally equable 
temperament, added a most provoking calmness of 
manner when all around him was excitement, 
blandly stated, for the information of the gentle- 
man, that the motion 'was not in order/ Mr. Clay 
then moved to suspend the rule forbidding it, so 
as to allow him to make the motion; but the 
Speaker, with imperturbable serenity, informed him 
that, according to the Rules and Orders, such a 
motion could not be received without the unani- 
mous consent of the House. ' Then] said Mr. 
Clay, exerting his voice even beyond its highest 
wont, '/ move to suspend all the rules of the 
House, Away with them ! Is it to be endured 
that we shall be trammeled in our action by mere 
forms and technicalities at a moment like this, 
when the peace, and perhaps the existence, of this 
Union is at stake?'" 

You have seen a blacksmith wield his sledge. 
He swings it in a reckless way; but somehow it 



ORI^XAZITT 469 

falls exactly on the right spot, and fashions the 
iron to his wish, Undertake to do it just as he 

does, and yon will fail. You may seize the handle 
at the same place, describe the same sweeping 
circle over the shoulder, but the chances are ten 
:; :ne you will miss the scot, Cm: cue execute a 
piece of statuary equal to Harriet Hosmer, just 
because he uses her hammer and chisel? Neither 
can you forge the blacksmith's iron. The power 
that fashions ik.it is mind and muscle merged in 
individuality, and that you can not grasp. Efforts 
t: appropriate the skill and cunning oi others 
generally end in disgrace. Each man is created 
an indecendent organism, and individuality is the 
idinv characteristic in that orvanism, Each man 
thus so hedged about that he must, from within 
himself work out his destiny. An attempt to 
mitate another's power can only result in destroy- 
ing one's own ability. 

Nowhere is there such a progeny of persistent 
imitators as in the literary held; and yet in no 
held is there such absolute demand fcr individual- 
ism. Let a writer's thought be wrought out as his 
own coinage : let him give himself to the people, 
whether in the ornate sentences of Wendell Phillips. 
or in the trite platitudes of Martin F. Tapper. In 
this way. if one can not secure admiration, he will 
at least preserve himself To be half yourself and 
half some one else. is. as Byron says — 

u So middling;, bad were be:: 



470 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

When Byron's English Bards and Scotch Review- 
ers was published, at once every literary fledgling 
in England began to satirize his critics. It is said 
that half the Baptist preachers in the United 
Kingdom affect Mr. Spurgeon, while hundreds of 
American pulpits are red-hot with the rhetorical 
cannonading of aspiring Talmages. Colonel Inger- 
soll, in the Cincinnati Convention of 1876, nominated 
James G. Blaine for President, in a speech that 
electrified the party. At once, every partisan orator 
in the land eulogized Blaine, until we almost forgot 
that Hayes and Tilden were candidates. 

Sometimes there is a marked similarity in style 
that leads to unjust criticism. Emerson has been 
charged with studying and imitating Carlyle. There 
is a striking similarity in their philosophy, and 
also in their style of expression, their phraseology 
being of the same mold ; yet " Emerson is not like 
Carlyle so much in any thing as in his originality/' 
There are two chapters in the Bible exactly alike, 
word for word ; still each answers a special purpose, 
in its place. You may have the gesture, voice, 
or type of expression possessed by another, but 
do not seek to change it at your peril. 

The value of models must not be misunderstood. 
There is no advantage so great to a young man 
as having an illustrious model before him. But he 
is not to imitate that model as the painter does 
the Last Supper. He is to find, in the perfection 
set before him, an incentive to action — a great, 
inspiring power that leads him to the same degree 



ORIGINALITY. 471 

of excellence. A great example is like so many 
more pounds of steam turned on to the driving- 
wheels of the engine. They hurry the train up to 
the city; but the steam is not the city. So the 
exemplar is a helping hand to lead his pupil on ; 
but the exemplar is not the "destiny;" he is only 
a means used to reach the destiny. An illustrious 
teacher once said to his school: "You know what 
I have achieved ; model after my industry and 
persistent labor, but do not imitate me." 

Originality anticipates the wants in its calling, 
and strives to supply them. And while it is unfor- 
tunately true that many inventors are compelled 
to yield up a controlling interest in their " goods " to 
some shrewd business manager, after all it frequently 
occurs that they reap more profit than if they had 
persistently kept the control in their own hands. 
The genius of invention and the genius of disposal 
seldom go together. 

Whatever the special feature of your originality, 
may be, it is best to cultivate it. Every effort to 
cultivate the other faculties will end in dissipating 
the vigor of this. Success is with the specialist. 
Silly men may cry out against one-idead men, but 
very seldom have men with two ideas accomplished 
any creditable work. John Stuart Mill may be poet, 
orator, and philosopher, metaphysician, politician, 
and botanist, yet how feeble are the results achieved 
by that capacious soul ! What might he not have 
accomplished if he had subordinated all to one idea ! 
Bonaparte was prolific with power in many directions, 



472 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

but he concentrated the whole force of his being 
on a single aim, and stamped himself the military 
chieftain of the world. The Bonapartes of every 
calling have been one-idead men. The specialist 
always makes one thing shine, and this often atones 
for all the faults elsewhere. Some merchants have 
been denounced as knowing nothing about their 
business, by their competitors, and have died rich, 
because they knew how to advertise. 

Industry is indispensable to originality. True, 
some eminent men are said never to study, but 
their very exception proves the rule. Like Richard 
Wagner in composing his music, they may lie 
dormant for days, and even weeks; but, when they 
have recuperated, and all their powers are full, 
they bend to work with an energy others are not 
capable of giving, and produce their astonishing 
results through the very appliances they are said 
to despise. There is a much greater per cent, of 
common ability prominent than of extraordinary ; 
for few men who are conscious of possessing 
superior talents exercise them ; and the loftiest 
talents may be carried through life, a burden 
rather than a blessing. There is as much indi- 
vidualism in application as there is in invention. 

Fortunately for the world, the -men who possess 
the ability to achieve great works, possess also the 
genius of application. The man who holds the 
possibility of vast achievement within himself is 
never lacking in the industry to produce it. He 
may dissipate his forces, like Hobbes, over a score 



ORIGINALITY. 473 

of leading objects, and execute none ; but such a 
life only indicates the impracticability of its pos- 
sessor. Nature has never fitted any man for 
sterling deeds, and then failed to provide him 
with the energy to attain them. It is very com- 
mon talk that such a one " has talents, and he 
could do much if he would only apply himself." 
Yet we notice he does not apply himself. 

He is one of those unfortunates, brilliant on the 
surface, always arousing the expectations of his 
friends, but never filling them. He has no reserved 
power ; if he had, you could no more keep him 
from action than you could keep a mountain 
spring dry by bailing it. The creative fountains 
of the soul would be forever pouring up incentives 
in that direction, until finally, in some way, he 
would go forth to accomplishment. Industry, like 
any other faculty, can be cultivated, and needs to 
be in every man ; but inborn industry is on a 
level with inborn ability to achieve. John Ruskin 
forcibly sets forth this principle. He says : 

" The greatness or smallness of a man is, in the 
most conclusive sense, determined for him at his 
birth, as strictly as it is determined for a fruit 
whether it is to be a currant or an apricot. 
Education, favorable circumstances, resolution, and 
industry can do much ; in a certain sense they do 
every thing ; that is to say, they determine whether 
the poor apricot shall fall in the form of a green 
bead, blighted by an east wind, shall be trodden 
under foot, or whether it shall expand into tender 



474 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

pride, and sweet brightness of golden velvet. But, 
apricot out of currant, great man out of small, did 
never yet art or effort make, and, in a general 
way, men have their excellence nearly fixed for 
them when they are born ; a little cramped and 
frost-bitten on one side, a little sun-burned and 
fortune-spotted on the other, they reach, between 
good and evil chances, such size and taste as 
generally belong to the men of their caliber, and 
the small in their serviceable bunches, the great in 
their golden isolation." 

After all, that much -abused thing, common sense, 
is a potency in the struggle of life. Possessing it, 
no man ever fell on evil days. Possessing it, he 
never sighs because he wasn't born a half century 
earlier in the world's history, or blames fortune 
because he wasn't born a half century later for a 
lucky time ; but he believes that the good time of 
the world is now, and in the country where he 
lives. He is prepared to make the best out of the 
circumstances by which he is surrounded. 

The most distinguished trait in such statesmen 
as Calhoun and Webster, and such financiers as 
Vanderbilt and Rothschild was common sense. It 
is the prevailing feature in Beecher and Spurgeon, 
and is the element that has made the writings of 
Greeley and Holland acceptable to all classes. 
Do n't pine away because you are not an eccentric 
genius, for, if you have common sense, you possess 
something infinitely more valuable. 

The world is full of books showing the Micawbers 



ORIGINALITY. 475 

how they may reach greatness. They tell us that 
what man has done, any man can do again. One 
has but to will it, and the thing is done. 
They tell how 

" Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime, 
And, departing, leave behind us 
Footprints on the sands of time," 

If one loves birds, they race him through the 
woods after Audubon ; if nature, they send him rov- 
ing through the forests of South America with 
Humboldt ; if he is ambitious, they shake the 
bloody mantle of Caesar in his face, or dazzle his 
eyes with the diadem of Constantine ; or if poetry, 
they tell him how Pope labored his couplets, and 
love-mad Tasso wrote during the midnight hours; 
and if the aim is to get money, they tell of the 
ragged boy who picked up a pin on the bank steps. 
The poor victim, thus enamored and inflamed, "lies 
down to pleasant dreams " of pelf and power, rises 
to his undertaking, and, as Jean Paul puts it, "lies 
down to his dreams again, because he has lost 
nothing but sleep." 

No amount of encouragement and assertion can 
reach a sublime achievement. Plodding labor will 
never do it. Nothing short of a nature fitly fur- 
nished for it can attain it. You had as well tell a 
child he could pull a railroad train as to tell the 
ordinary man he could do the work of a Hum- 
boldt. If he will undergo the sacrifices of Audubon, 



476 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

and possesses his perseverance and temperament, 
he may accomplish what he did ; but no number 
of "I wills" can do the work. When a man can 
stay in the saddle eighteen hours out of twenty-four, 
and retain his intellectual vigor unimpaired, he then 
may attempt to measure strides with Napoleon. 
If he hold Tasso's "spirit" and passion in his 
breast, he may undertake the sublime cantos. If 
there is a river in his kingdom flowing with gold, 
then may he affect the lavish expenditure of 
Crcesus. But to point the youth of the land to 
the height of these lonely impossibles, and assure 
them they can wear the same crown if they but 
desire it, when they are not governed by the same 
incentives, circumstances, or mental prowess, is the 
sheerest folly. Contempt of all preferment is not a 
trait of the Americn youth. The boy does not 
exist at sixteen years of age, but "visions of glory 
dance over his mind." Ambition burns as unceas- 
ingly in his breast as the sacred fire on Vesta's 
altar. Every one has the thousands he will make 
already numbered, or the position he will attain to 
definitely marked out. These men do not realize 
that increasing this ambition, without giving the 
ability to satisfy it, is filling the states with a restless 
and dissatisfied legion of men who feel that the 
world does not appreciate them. 

All positions in life are alike useful and honor- 
able. Different vocations require a different quality 
of intellect rather than a difference in quantity. It 
is not the work that makes the dishonor ; it is the 



ORIGINALITY. 477 

man that goes into the work. Respect your work 
and yourself, and others will respect you and your 
work. The most despised calling is brought into 
respect by the integrity of its professors. A stone- 
cutter may be the companion of philosophers; a 
blacksmith a universal linguist ; a coal-miner the 
flower of the drawing-room. Give no regard to 
the occupation — 

'The rank is but the guinea stamp; 
The man's the gowd for a' that.' 

No man knows what his powers are until he 
has been put on trial. You may be made for 
great things or small, but you will never know 
until you have a fair test, Men of great talents 
are always the last ones to find it out ; they say, 
with Hazlitt, that "it's nothing but hard work." 
Do n't worry yourself over Peter the Great or 
Christopher Columbus, but put in your mightiest 
efforts on the work you have to do. Sir Joshua 
Reynolds says : " If a man has great talents, indus- 
try will improve them ; if he has but moderate, 
industry will supply their deficiency," The more 
limited your powers, the greater need of cultivating 
your "originality," Your achievements may not 
equal those of others, but, being original, they will 
be striking and attractive, and save you from 
failure. 

What if you do not sit on the "throne?" A 
man may be a grand lawyer, and never rank with 
Choate or Evarts ; he may sway millions with his 



478 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

pen, and fall far short of Ruskin or Everett in 
elegance and force ; he may be a princely merchant, 
and not have half the trade of Claflin or Shillitto. 
Finally, don't be content to wear the clothes of 
some one else. Do n't receive any man as an 
example, except for inspirational power. Do n't 
depend on your genius. Do n't live in the old 
ruts. Do n't build air-castles. Fix your eye on 
destiny's star, and 

"To your own self be true." 





$f)BSical Culture 



My friends, you behold a man dying, full of life! — Anquetil. 

To the strong hand and strong head, the capacious lungs 
and vigorous frame, fall, and will always fall, the heavy burdens; 
and where the heavy burdens fall, the great prizes fall too. — 
Laws of Lifl. 




480 



CHAPTER XXIII 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 




T would be a curious and interesting study 
to trace the variety of opinions that have 
been held concerning- the mutual relations of the 
body and the intellectual principle. The original 
idea was, that body and mind were one and 
undivided. Anaxagoras, whose glory has been so 
eclipsed by his pupil and successor, Socrates, holds 
the almost matchless merit of announcing, amid a 
heathen world, and without the light of any 
external revelation, the existence of a Supreme 
Intelligence, or Mind, and that man was a com- 
pound being., consisting of a body and a spirit. 

Under the early conceptions of man's nature, 
the body was trained carefully, along with the 
mind; both were treated as fellow -workers in one 
cause. The Academe, the Lyceum, and the Cynos- 
arges were schools for the body as well as the 
mind ; there the wrestler, the discobolus, and the 
philosopher met for common purposes. The ancient 



* The statements in this chapter are made on the authority of Dr. Elam. 
31 481 



482 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

poets and historians picture all their heroes as 
physical giants. Hesiod represented the giants as 
divine beings. Homer says the men of his day 
were degenerate sons of the heroes of Troy. King 
Arthur and Charlemagne were said to be greater 
in stature than common men. And history reported 
William the Conqueror to be eight feet in height; 
but when his tomb, at Caen, was broken open, and 
Stowe measured his bones, they were found to be 
of ordinary size. Alexander the Great, in one of 
his Asiatic expeditions, caused to be made and left 
behind him a suit of armor of huge proportions, 
for the purpose of inducing a belief among the 
people he had conquered that he was of very 
great stature. 

About the time of the Christian era, the body 
became gradually neglected and despised. How- 
ever, it was not a Christian doctrine, for there we 
are taught that body and soul are to be preserved 
blameless ! Body and mind came to be reckoned 
as having separate and antagonistic interests. Phi- 
losophers considered the body a clog, an impediment 
to the acquisition of knowledge. To the post- 
apostolic Christians the body was sin incarnate, the 
source of all evil and temptation, the barrier 
between the soul and heaven. When Epictetus, 
the philosopher, was severely treated by his master, 
Epaphroditus, under the most intense agony he 
smiled, and told him that he would break his lee 
with twisting it. This actually did occur without 
disturbing his equanimity. On being questioned 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 483 

as to the cause of this astonishing composure, he 
merely replied that the body was "external" 

Gregory Nyssen, in the era of the church fathers, 
emptied the phials of his abuse upon the body, as 
"a fuliginous, ill -savored shop, a prison, an ill- 
savored stink, a lump of flesh which moldereth 
away, and draweth near to corruption whilst we 
speak of it." And the Manicheans put the climax 
to these reproaches by teaching that God was 
the author of the soul, but the Devil was maker 
of the body. 

While this last conception has died away as 
matter of philosophy and faith, still its spirit is 
manifested in our land to a perilous extent. The 
influences that surround our intellectual young 
men lead them to despise the body as only a work- 
shop for the mind, while it grades their intelligence 
to a preternatural activity. As the result of this, 
the prophesied possessor of the " wooden spoon " 
from Yale, or the first honors from our standard 
colleges, sinks into the darkness of mediocrity, and 
the rough-and-tumble boy from the log school- 
house or flat-boat moves up to the helm of affairs. 

We have no right to build up the mind at the 
expense of the body. If some giant-framed Bodine, 
whose remains Buffon would take for a fossil 
elephant, has dissipated and caroused for sixty years 
without destroying his mental powers, that is no 
reason why the mass of men should deem the body 
a Gibraltar that can not be overthrown. As well 
might we expect a house to stand when the founda- 



484 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

tion is taken from under it, as to demand 
intellectual vigor from a man whose physical health 
and strength have been wrecked. One of the first 
requisites of a successful life is a good physique. 

Intellectual culture has come to be a mania, and 
it is fostered by a popular disapprobation of manly 
sports. The college regattas are sneered at by the 
papers. The " movement cure/' gymnasiums, and 
health-lifts are laughed at by phyiscians. Base ball 
has been classed with faro, and croquet has been 
surnamed " Presbyterian billiards." Physical prowess 
is nearly a shame, and every American is trying 
to crawl out of his body into his head. Phar- 
maceutical nostrums are poured down every puny, 
emaciated creature that is dying from a poor cir- 
culation and lack of exercise. The feet are crowded 
into little boots, the hands pinched by kids, the 
body as thinly draped as that of a Feejee 
Islander, and yet men are trying to have their 
brain weigh as much as Webster's. 

If we take a look at the English character, we 
find a wholesome commentary on our intellectual 
stuffing. An Englishman thinks as much of his 
stomach as he does of his brain. Confessedly the 
Englishwoman is not so good looking as the 
American woman, but then she is a beef-eater. She 
takes exercise, she has muscle, she honors her 
body, not for its looks, but for its worth. The 
English people are " good feeders," and vigorous 
indulgers in sports. Cricket and all the kindred 
plays are indulged in by lords and ladies, common- 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 485 

ers and laborers. Charles James Fox, with all his 
adipose, could pick up a tennis ball with the ease 
of a stripling. The athletic sports of Oxford and 
Cambridge are of national interest. Even Parlia- 
ment adjourns over Derby day. Englishmen take 
to exercise like the Germans to beer. It is 
national, and they present the world a square- 
built, solid race of men, capable of tremendous 
exertion and long endurance. 

This English virtue is not to be despised by 
Americans. Muscle will tell when it comes to 
brain work. Set two men of equal mind-power 
to an equal intellectual task, and the physic- 
ally frail man will not perform his work as 
creditably as the one with an iron constitution. 
Hence, English statesmen, officers, and literary 
men perform more brain work than any other 
people. The royal family and those elevated to 
high positions within the realm, live far beyond 
the common average of years. Is it not because 
life becomes an "item," and therefore the most 
strictly scientific and medical attention is paid to 
its interests ? The American seems to calculate 
on a short life, apparently preferring a brief and 
railroad rate of existence to a sluggish longevity. 
At present we waste almost every thing in our 
haste — our land as much as our lives. 

The American scholar and thinker is by rule a 
dyspeptic. He is a razor-faced, lantern-jawed, thin, 
nervous man. This is partly the effect of climate, 
and partly that of diet and regimen. In the 



486 SUCCESS IJSf LIFE. 

old days of bran-bread and prayers before day- 
light in the colleges, and long morning walks 
before breakfast, and suicidal, consumptive habits, it 
required a pretty tough man to live through his 
studies at all. We are now doing this thing 
better, but we have not reached the highest out- 
come of the change, and shall not reach it, proba- 
bly, for several generations. But we have come to 
the recognition of the fact that it does not toughen 
a man to reduce his diet, to cut short his sleep, to 
take long walks on an empty stomach, and to 
indulge in cold baths when there is no well- 
supported vitality to respond to them. We have 
come to the conviction that, for a useful public life, 
brains are of very little account if there are no 
muscles to do their bidding. In short, we have 
learned that, without physical vitality, the profound- 
est learning, the most charming ■ talents, and the 
best accomplishments are of little use to a public 
man, in whatever field of professional life he may 
be engaged. 

The London Times of Oct. 28, 1857, had a. vigor- 
ous and thoughtful article on building up the mind 
at the expense of the body, from which we extract 
liberally : 

" It has been too much the fashion with us to decry 
the body, to talk it down, to speak scornfully of it in 
every possible way, to be always comparing it with 
the mind for the sole purpose of showing how vile 
and worthless it is in comparison, — a mode of speak- 
ing which, even if it is true abstractedly, may be 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 487 

indulged in such a degree as to involve a practical 
untruth. Our didactic books have been full of the 
praises of midnight oil, all our oracles of learning 
have been vehement in favor of unsparing study, 
and the mind has been subjected to the most 
acute stimulants, while the body has been left to 
take care of itself as it can. 

" These have been the tactics, we say, of our 
modern masters of tire schools and encouraeers of 
learning — an unsparing use of the goad, a merciless 
appeal to student ambition and emulation, as if it 
was impossible to stir up these motives too deeply. 
But how one-sided is a discipline which applies 
this powerfully sharp and penetrating stimulus to 
the mind, while it leaves to itself, or, rather, what is 
worse, suppresses and flings aside the claims of the 
body, which has to fare as it can under the exclusive 
and oppressive dominion of its rival ! How partial 
is such a system, and superficial because partial! 
After all our sublime abuse of the body, a body man 
has, and that body is part of himself; and if he is 
not fair to it, he himself will be the sufferer. The 
whole man, we say, will be the sufferer — not the 
corporeal man only, but the intellectual man as well. 
Particular capacities may receive even a monstrous 
development by the use of an exclusive stimulus, but 
the reason and judgment of the man as a whole 
must be injured if one integral part of him is dis- 
eased. If the body is thoroughly out of condition, 
the mind will suffer; it may show a morbid enlarge- 
ment of one or other faculty of it, but the directing 



488 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

principle — that which alone can apply any faculty or 
knowledge to a good purpose, can regulate its use 
and check its extravagances — is weakened and 
reduced. How miserable is the spectacle of morbid 
learning, with its buried hoards, and its voracious, 
insatiable appetite for acquisition, united with the 
judgment of a child ! The picture of a Kirke 
White dying at the age of twenty-one of nocturnal 
study, wet towels round heated temples, want of 
sleep, want of exercise, want of air, want of every- 
thing which Nature intended for the body, is not 
only melancholy because it is connected with an 
early death — it is melancholy also on account of the 
certain effect which would have followed such a 
course unchecked if he had lived. We see, when 
we look down the vista of such a life, an enfeebled 
and a prostrated man, very fit to be made a lion 
of, like a clever child, and to be patted on the 
head by patrons and patronesses of genius, but 
without the proper intellect and judgment of a 
man. How sad even is the spectacle of that giant 
of German learning, Neander, lying his whole length 
on the floor among his books, absorbing recondite 
matter till the stupor of repletion comes over him, 
forgetful of time and place, not knowing where he 
is, on the earth or in the moon, led like a child 
by his sister to his lecture-room, when the lecture 
hour came, and led away home again when it was 
over! Is this humanity, we ask, as Providence 
designed us to be? Is it legitimate, rational human 
nature? It can hardly be called so. 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 489 

u We must not let the mind feed itself by the 
ruin of the body. The mind should be a good, 
strong, healthy feeder, but not a glutton. Do not 
use too unsparingly the motive of ambition in 
dealing with youth. It is a motive which is per- 
fectly honest and natural, within proper limits ; but, 
when pushed to excess, it produces a feeble, sickly, 
unmanly growth of character ; it creates that whole 
brood of fantastic theorists, sentimentalists, and 
speculators which, in art, science, and theology alike, 
are the seducers and the corruptors of mankind." 

There can be no doubt that excessive mental 
labor has an unfavorable influence upon the health 
and the character, ruining the former, and render- 
ing the latter " feeble, sickly, and unmanly," and 
that this is especially the case with young persons. 
It is also true that, in our educational systems 
generally, the body is neglected, and, at its expense, 
the mind is urged beyond its normal powers. 

We believe, with Anaxagoras, that man is a 
duality, compounded of body and mind ; yet we 
must go beyond him, and accept the more remote 
ancients, who made the whole man an indivisible 
unit. Therefore, it must be granted that health is 
one of the ingredients of talent. What could 
Frederick the Great have accomplished without 
health ? He did not move his armies and rule 
his states by the intuition of genius — no great man 
ever had less of it — and he was one of the great- 
est of men. His early efforts in the field were 
covered with the most shameful blunders. By 



490 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

intense application he mastered military tactics. 
Like Newton, he gave himself unto it. He would 
trust no man ; without cabinet officers, and with 
but few clerks, from his butcher s bill to the gravest 
affairs of state, he exercised personal supervision over 
all, and ruled single-handed. What enabled him to 
do it ? Not brain-power simply, but a physical 
constitution that labored eighteen hours out of 
twenty-four, and never felt fatigue for seventy-four 
years. A Kirke White or a Blaise Pascal, with all 
their genius, would have gone to their graves in 
two years under such labors, or been flattened to 
hopeless mediocrity. Had Hannibal been less a 
Hercules, he would not have held Rome at bay 
until his hair was white. And Audubon could 
never have roamed over the forests, enduring the 
hardships and misfortunes he encountered, had his 
lignum-vitum been less fibrous. Every man of 
learning will say that the ferocious courage of 
Charles XII of Sweden, the mighty pluck of Mira- 
beau, and the colossal works of Walter Scott 
gained a great portion of their power and vast- 
ness from unusual physical constitution. 

To understand, conceive, and scheme, a well- 
developed forehead is needed ; to drive, execute, 
and overturn, a fall backhead is needed. Who 
ever saw a man possessing the forehead of Benja- 
min Franklin, and the base of the brain without 
development, as in Coleridge, execute any heroic 
work ? There is Thomas De Quincey, with the 
frontal of poet, philosopher, and warrior, but the 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 491 

base of his brain was a cavity. The man who 
climbed the rafters while his wife whipped the 
bear had as much resolution as De Quincey. A 
Julius Caesar may be little, suffer from the dys- 
pepsia, and have a fit every time he plans a 
battle ; but the bumps on the back of his head 
are as large as they are in front ; and the world 
must take care of its dominions when such men 
march to execute their schemes. In a word, man 
is an animal as well as an intellectual being, and, 
while the brain conceives and projects, it is the 
animal that furnishes the backbone, and pushes the 
design with vigor. 

Dr. Holland, in his customary manner, testifies to 
the importance of physical culture, while taking a 
survey of the New York and Brooklyn pulpits: 

" The two great men of the Brooklyn pulpit are 
splendid men physically, and they never could have 
been the powers they are had they been otherwise. 
Dr. Chapin and Robert Collyer, though fine and 
strong in intellectual fiber, are not so exceptionally 
remarkable in that particular as to account for 
their long strong hold upon the public mind. The 
two Boston preachers who draw the largest crowds, 
Mr. Phillips Brooks and Mr. Murray, are men of 
entirely exceptional physique — hard to be matched 
anywhere in the world for size and strength. It 
is an inspiration to look at them. Their presence 
is magnetic. They exercise a charm which can 
only come from complete manhood — the equipoise 
of thought and intent with voice and might. If 



492 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

we turn to our own city, and see where the crowds 
are, we shall find them at Dr. Hall's and Dr. 
Taylor's. Mr. Hepworth's church, too, is usually a 
crowded one. It is no dishonor to these men to 
say that the people do not flock to them because 
they preach the best sermons to be heard in New 
York. There are a dozen pulpits furnished with 
as good brains as these. The simple truth is that, 
if they were called upon to preach with a slender | 
physique and a weak voice, their crowds would 
leave them." 

Over brain work may destroy the very finest 
physical organization. Southey had sinews of steel, 
and yet he died in darkness from over-toil. Sir 
Walter Scott, with a natural ability to dispatch 
work such as few literary men have possessed, 
inherited a vigorous constitution, and sought to 
keep it intact. When writing Waverley he would 
" pen all morning like a tiger," and race his horse 
all afternoon in the chase. But when he became 
involved in debt, he had no time to give his body 
rest and exercise. Speaking of the debt, he said : 
"This right hand shall work it off. If we lose 
every thing else, we will at least keep our honor 
unblemished." He threw himself into his task as 
a soldier in the forlorn hope flings himself into 
the jaws of death. He rushed through Woodstock, 
told the Tales of a Grandfather, revised his novels, 
wrote his Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft 
when his health was so undermined he could 
scarcely hold his pen. When he threw off the Life 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 493 

of Napoleon, he wrote in his diary, " These battles 
have been the death of many a man. I think they 
will be mine." And at last, after having Anglo- 
Saxonized the language of Europe, and made a 
literature, he broke down physically at fifty-five, 
and went to his grave at sixty with a softened 
brain. 

"From Marlborough's eyes the tears of dotage flow, 
And Swift expires a driveler, and a show." 

Minds that could wander through eternity wrecked 
for lack of a few hours daily spent in physical cul- 
ture ! " My brain is burning, I can bear life no 
longer ! " said the author of the Old Red Sand- 
stone, and the suicide's pistol puts on the finishing 
stroke. Hugh Miller was, intellectually, a giant, 
and, physically, possessed a frame of iron ; but he 
violated the laws which govern health — he taxed 
his brain with more toil than it could well perform; 
it reeled and staggered, but it reeled and staggered 
in vain. He pulled away and lashed it into fury, 
and he perished to gratify his genius and his 
ambition. 

There are men who overtax their minds all day 
long, through months and years, ignorant that there 
is a subtle but inevitable connection between dys- 
pepsia and too much mental exertion. It is a 
thing which every man should understand, that 
there is a point beyond which, if he urge his brain, 
the injurious result will be felt, not in the head, 
but in the stomach. Did not the overtaxed nerves 



494 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

of Cicero first cry out in his stomach? It was not 
until after he had fled before dyspepsia to the 
gymnasium, and lived on hygiene and cracked corn 
for two years that " he pulverized Catiline and 
blasted Antony." Beecher says : 

" There is scarcely one man in a hundred who 
supposes that he must ask leave of his stomach 
to be a happy man. In many cases the difference 
between happy men and unhappy men is caused by 
their digestion. Oftentimes the difference between 
hopeful men and melancholy men is simply the 
difference of their digestion. There is much that 
is called spiritual ailment that is nothing but 
stomachic ailment. I have, during my experience 
as a religious teacher, had persons call upon me 
with that hollow cheek, that emaciated face, and 
that peculiar look which indicate the existence of 
this cerebral and stomachic difficulty, to tell me 
about their trials and temptations ; and, whatever I 
may have said to them, my inward thought has 
been, ' There is very little help that can be afforded 
you till your health is established.' The founda- 
tion of all earthly happiness is physical health ; 
and yet men scarcely ever value it till they have 
lost it." 

Dr. J. W. Alexander testified to the same point. 
When asked if he enjoyed the full assurance 
of faith, he answered : " I ' think I do, except 
when the wind is from the east." Hodson, of 
Hodson's House, wrote back to a friend in Eng- 
land: " I believe if I get on well in India, it 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 495 

will be owing, physically speaking, to a sound 
digestion." It is said that Elihu Burritt found 
hard labor necessary to his health, and more than 
once went back to the leather apron and forge 
for the sake of body and mind. 

Mental over-work is the great American disease. 
It is not confined to the study alone, but is visible 
in the counting-room and all the branches of 
trade. How many men, like Dean Swift, are " dying 
a-top first." It may take on the form of paralysis 
or apoplexy, but the real cause lies in an over- 
worked brain. This mental collapse is not confined 
to our shores ; the English and French are bur- 
dened with the same affliction. One of the valu- 
able lessons to be educed from the life and death 
of the late M. Thiers is that which teaches brain- 
workers the necessary limits of mental endurance. 
An able writer in the New York World says : 

" It appears that Thiers became so morbidly 
nervous toward the close of his career, that the 
breaking of waves on the shore at Dieppe, and 
the whispering of the wind through the tree-tops 
of a forest, were to him intolerable noises, while 
the fall of a knife on the floor of the room in 
which he had shut himself up for the sake of 
quiet, nearly drove him to distraction. All the 
political troubles of his later life were as nothing 
in comparison with trouble caused by those gentle 
and soothing sounds of nature — the wind and the 
wave. 

"It is well known that Thiers led an intensely 



496 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

busy life in the line of literary productiveness. 
He wrote, spoke, and talked incessantly. His brain 
was in a constant whirl of movement and activity. 
His historical and political writings alone consti- 
tute the work of an ordinary intellect for a life- 
time. And by this prolonged strain and mental 
worry, he prepared himself for the sudden stroke 
of paralysis which ended his career." 

There is a limit to mental endurance. When this 
limit is reached, a Samson is as likely to retire 
with a soft head or paralysis as some pigmy whose 
body could be trussed in an eel-skin. It is a fact 
that some of the world's most prodigious workers 
have been borne about in very frail tabernacles. 
Petrarch was so diseased that he fell in a fainting 
lit whenever his mind was overloaded. Julius 
Caesar could not plan a battle without suffering in 
the same manner. Cowper's body was fragile, while 
his spirit was pure essence. Nursed and cared for 
by Mrs. Unwin, " as though he were her consump- 
tive boy," subject to depressions of melancholy, and, 
at times, of total aberration ; he, nevertheless, wrote 
largely, gave us the purest poetry of his century, 
and re-gave to England the standard verse. Bona- 
parte, who performed such herculean feats of endur- 
ance, both physically and mentally, half-killing his 
four secretaries, performing the labors of a literary 
man and a business man, and in the saddle 
eighteen hours out of twenty-four, had a chronic 
disease of the stomach, and had to watch his 
digestion as keenly as Pascal, that poor waif of 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 497 

physical life, who weighed his morsels of bread, and 
balanced his bit of trout in an apothecary's scales. 
It took all the knowledge of art and medicine 
to hold the flickering flame of life in the breast of 
William III; and Epictetus was, he tells us, "a 
cripple and a beggar." Was not Nelson little and 
lame? Yet he was the hero of Trafalgar. Was not 
Byron club-footed, weakly, and of a morbid tem- 
perament ? Yet " he stooped to touch the loftiest 
thought." And here is Thomas De Quincey, "this 
fragile and unsubstantial figure — this dagger of 
lath — this ghostly body resting on a pair of imma- 
terial legs," possessing " one of the most potent and 
original spirits that ever dwelt in a tenement of 
clay." Look at that literary leviathan, Samuel 
Johnson, so feeble and delicate, as a child, that his 
mother carried him on a pillow, and his physician 
"never knew another raised with such difficulty" — 
his whole body was honey-combed with scrofulous 
sores, his head was drawn to one side, his right 
cheek eaten almost off, and his body twisted into 
unsightly contortions — suffering horrors from a 
constitutional depression that kept him "mad half 
his life, or at least, not sober" — sitting in his chair 
with one arm thrown over its back, his legs doubled 
up under him, he looked like a cross between the 
hunchback and kangaroo. He would sit swaying his 
ungainly figure to and fro, with his languid eyes 
half shut, chanting some incoherent ditty for hours. 
Yet where is the man whose pen has traced more 

pages, or given vent to grander thoughts? 
32 



498 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

Notwithstanding the profound results attained by 
these, and many others, who have dwelt in unsub- 
stantial bodies, the verdict must be rendered in 
favor of a vigorous constitution. These men worked 
against fearful ' odds, and only their unusual endow- 
ments permitted them to accomplish what they did. 
Using Macaulay, with some additions, Mathews 
says : " Rarely does the world behold such a spec- 
tacle as that presented in 1693, at Neerwinden, in 
the Netherlands, when, among the one hundred and 
twenty thousand soldiers who were marshaled under 
the banners of all Europe, the two feeblest in body 
were the hunch-backed dwarf who urged on the 
fiery onset of France and the asthmatic skeleton 
who covered the slow retreat of England." 

Again, the battles of the world have not all been 
won by the heavy men. It must be confessed that 
the giant frames have not held a large share of 
the great souls. Grant is of very medium height. 
Nelson could n't see over a sailor's shoulder, and 
Bonaparte was known as the " Little Corporal." 
Louis XIV, the Grand Monarque, was unable 
to tip six feet, even in his high heels and feathers, 
while our own Douglas was distinguished as the 
" Little Giant." Children some times ask the size 
of Alexander, and we are all half<lisposed to believe 
him a physical Titan, but history records him as 
one of the smallest men in his army. It was not 
stature that made Frederick the Great the fierce 
and awful conqueror he was, but the vast energies 
pent up in his little clay tenement. 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 499 

The elder Pitt was not large, and Burke was small ; 
and when Warren Hastings (who gave England an 
empire) advanced to the bar, bent his knee, and 
kissed the scepter of the realm in the great hall of 
William Rufus, preparatory to being tried on the 
charge of " exercising tyranny over the lord of the 
holy city of Benares, and over the ladies of the 
princely house of Oude," the smallest man in all the 
eminent array was he whose genius and crimes had 
convoked the august gathering. 

These small-bodied, or feeble -bodied, men often 
have what the physical giants do not always possess 
— working capacity. A man may be in frame a 
Heenan, and never be able to endure a weeks 
severe toil. The length of the arms, the avoirdu- 
pois, or the ability to lift Dr. Winships load, is no 
sure sign of an enduring constitution. Some of the 
rarest and most potent essences of nature have been 
inclosed in strange and unsightly caskets, but every 
morning they have borrowed a fresh bit of life, and 
have performed the work of two men's lives, long 
after the Heenans and Winships were in their 
graves. There was some how a wonderful potency 
for work in Socrates, as he stood in his day-long 
trance of thought, and in the macerated and 
visionary Luther in his Augustinian cell. 

In Froissart's chivalrous and romantic account 
of the delivery of France from the English 
invaders, only the hand of the sinewy Bertrand 
du Guesclin is to be seen ; but the real spring of 
all was the head of the feeble invalid who con- 



500 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

quered the two Edwards. It has been observed 
by a thoughtful writer that "a table would not be 
called strong if two of its legs were cracked and 
several of its joints loose, however tough might be 
its materials, and however good its original work- 
manship. But if the table showed a power of 
holding together and recovering itself, notwith- 
standing every sort of rough usage, it might well 
be called strong, though it was ultimately broken up ; 
and its strength might not unnaturally be measured 
by the quantity of ill-usage which it survived. It 
is precisely in this power of self-repair that the 
difference between a body and a mere machine 
resides. The difficulty of saying what is meant by 
physical strength is in the difficulty of distinguish- 
ing between the mechanical and what, for want of 
a better word, must be called the vital powers 
of the body. Look upon the body as a machine, 
and the broken arm, the tubercles in the lungs, or 
the cancer in the liver, prevent you from calling it 
strong ; but, if it goes on acting for years, and 
wonderfully recovering itself again and again from 
the catastrophe which these defects tend to pro- 
duce, there must be a strong something somewhere." 
It is this self- restoring quality one wants. It is 
worth more than the heirloom of longevity or the 
muscle of Spartacus. Without a constitution that 
can repair its own waste and wear, one is in a 
sorry plight for the friction and break-neck encoun- 
ters of life. The man who encourages a good 
physique is the one who comes the nearest giving 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 501 

nature all she asks to supply the drain upon the 
system ; and his chances for standing up against 
hardships and pulling through fatiguing exertions 
safely are very much superior to those of the man 
with the frail body. However, over-work, mental 
or physical, when stretched beyond the limits of 
the self-recuperative powers, will leave the most 
vigorous man a crazy constitution for the rest of 
his days. Men sometimes talk of over-work and 
under-rest — as though one might over-work safely 
if he would over-rest as much. In the matter of 
mere exhaustion, rest will restore ; but, where the 
system is unduly taxed — pressed beyond the limits 
of its abilities — there is no elixir of life in rest. 
Every man has about so much vital force, and, 
when that is spent, he is undone. 

I close this chapter by citing a vigorous and 
able summary of the question, which recently 
appeared in the editorial columns of the London 
Times : 

" There is perhaps no man living, of whom more 
feats of labor and triumphs over the frail physique 
of humanity are recorded, than of Lord Brougham. 
Legends of this sort have gathered round him like 
a Hercules. There is a legend that he once worked 
six continuous days — i.e., one hundred and forty- 
four hours — without sleep; that he then rushed 
down to his country lodgings, slept all Saturday 
night, all Sunday, all Sunday night, and was waked 
by his valet on Monday morning, to resume the 
responsibilities of life and commence the work of 



502 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

the next week. A man must, of course, have a 
superhuman constitution who can do, we will not 
say this particular feat, which is perhaps mythical, 
but feats of this class, and probably the greatness 
of our great men is quite as much a bodily 
affair as a mental one. Nature has presented them 
not only with extraordinary minds, but — what has 
quite as much to do with the matter — with 
wonderful bodies. What can a man do without a 
constitution — a working constitution? He is laid 
on the shelf from the day he is born. For him no 
munificent destiny reserves the Great Seal, or the 
Rolls, or the Chief-Justiceship, or the leadership of 
the House of Commons, the Treasury, or the 
Admiralty, or the Horse Guards, the Home Office, 
or the Colonies. The Church may promote him, 
for it does not signify to the Church whether a man 
does his work or not, but the State will have nothing 
to do with the poor, constitutionless wretch. He 
will not rise higher than a Recordership, or a Poor 
Law Board. ' But/ somebody will ask, ' has that 
pale, lean man, with a face like parchment, and 
nothing on his bones, a constitution ? ' Yes, he 
has — he has a working constitution, and a ten-times 
better one than you, my good friend, with your 
ruddy face and strong, muscular frame. You look, 
indeed, the very picture of health, but you have, in 
reality, only a sporting constitution, not a working 
one. You do very well for the open air, and get on 
tolerably well, with fine, healthy exercise and no 
strain on your brain. But try close air for a week 



PHYSICAL CULTURE. 503 

i 

— try confinement, with heaps of confused papers 
and books of reference, blue books, or law books, 
or dispatches to get through, and therefrom extract 
liquid and transparent results, and you will find 
yourself knocked up and fainting, when the pale, 
lean man is — if not as fresh as a daisy, which he 
never is, being of the perpetually cadaverous kind 

— at least as unaffected as a bit of leather, and not 
showing the smallest sign of giving way. There are 
two sorts of good constitutions — good idle consti- 
tutions, and good working ones. When nature 
makes a great man, she presents him with the latter 
gift. Not that we wish to deprive our great men 
of their merit. A man must make one or two 
experiments before he finds out his constitution. A 
man of spirit and metal makes the experiment, tries 
himself, and runs the risk, as a soldier does on the 
field. The battle of life and death is often fought 
as really in chambers or in an office as it is on the 
field. A soul is required to make use of the body, 
but a great man must have a body as well as a soul 
to work with. Charles Buller, Sir William Moles- 
worth, and others, are instances of men whose 
bodies refused to support their souls, and were 
therefore obliged to give up the prize when they 
had just reached it. And how many hundreds, or 
thousands — if one did but know them — perish in 
an earlier stage, before they have made any way at 
all, simply because, though they had splendid minds, 
they had very poor bodies ! Let our lean, cadaverous 
friend, then, when the laurel surmounts his knotty, 



504 



SUCCESS IN LIFE. 



parchment face, thank Heaven for his body, which, 
he may depend upon i.t, is almost as great a treasure 
as his soul. Nature may not have made him a 
handsome man, but what does this signify ? She 
has made him a strong one." 





♦ ©. g>t<>toart* 



Seek not proud riches ; but such as thou mayest get justly, 
use soberly, distribute cheerfully, and leave contentedly; yet 
have no abstract or friarly contempt of them. — Bacon. 



Never treat money affairs with levity 
— Lord Lytton. 



money is character. 



Not for to hide it in a hedge, 
Nor for a train attendant, 

But for the glorious privilege 
Of being independent. 



Burns. 





CHAPTER XXIV. 



A. T. STEWART. 




COMMERCIAL life has come to be recog- 
nized as a game of chance, and the man 
who can die before he bankrupts is considered 
fortunate. The mercantile failures in our land 
have steadily increased for fifty years, until the 
business registers are scarcely able to show a man 
who has stood unshaken for thirty years. In the 
cities, the great army of failures is being recruited 
to an alarming extent from the young business 
men. The majority of our city merchants go to 
the wall early in life. Few people realize the 
extent to which this epidemic reaches, for they fall 
one by one, making all manner of excuses to keep 
up appearances ; or, under the assumption of chang- 
ing business, they drop out of the channel ; the 
great, rushing current throws another member into 
the vacant place, and the tides of commerce roll 
on all the same to the world. But to the one 

that failed it is a serious matter. The little that 

507 



508 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

he had is swept away, his energies are impaired, 
and his plans and hopes are scattered. Some one 
has said that the best temperament for a business 
man is a compound of the "desponding- and reso- 
lute ; or, as I had better express it, of the appre- 
hensive and the resolute. Such is the temperament 
of great commanders : secretly, they rely upon 
nothing and nobody. There is such a powerful 
element of failure in all human affairs, that a 
shrewd man is always saying to himself: 'What 
shall I do, if that which I count upon does not 
come out as I expect ? ' This foresight dwarfs and 
crushes all but men of great resolution." 

Sagacity and resolution are absolutely demanded 
in the business man ; for, manage however well he 
may, there are times when these reserve forces will 
be needed to save him from disaster. But a large 
share of the disasters falling upon our mercantile 
class could be averted if the business man had not 
given himself up to an overweening ambition to 
monopolize all the branches of trade. Ralston 
was a banker, a miner, a railroad builder, a 
speculator, and an entertainer. The hopeless com- 
plications of his business led him to suicide. 
There are but few Napoleons, and whenever a 
man finds he can do one thing well, it will be 
well for him if he can be content to stand by 
that solitary thing. The following, from one of 
our journals, is wholesome: "An acquaintance, a 
seed-dealer, stated that for the first five years he 
could not ascertain that he made any thing. But 



A. T. STEWART. 509 

he was learning. Before ten years, he was clearing 
five* thousand dollars per year. Another was doing 
well in manufacturing ropes. But he was unstable 
in mind, and, although his friends advised him to 
'hang to the ropes/ he was not getting rich fast 
enough ; so he meddled with business he had not 
learned sufficiently — bought a mill, bought grain, 
and then broke a bank by his large failure. Some 
farmers come to the conclusion that cows are the 
most profitable ; purchase animals, erect buildings, 
and begin well. But, it being a new business, they 
do not succeed as they expected ; they might, if 
they would stick to it. The next year they sell 
their dairy, and buy sheep. The price of wool is 
low that year, and they hear that much money 
has been made by raising tobacco. Thus they go 
on, changing from one thing to another, and never 
succeeding at all. Stick to your business." 

But, by far the greatest cause of mercantile fail- 
ures is a lack of genuine moral character in the 
trader. Most men understand their business. They 
are masters of it. They know how to conduct it 
in a straightforward an j thorough manner, but 
they are not content to drudge along on the old 
plane of fairness and truthfulness. They want to 
get to fortune by a cross-cut. In their haste to 
get on they sacrifice moral character and ultimate 
results for present success. It is scarcely possible 
to paint in too high colors the artifices that are 
habitually resorted to by our tradespeople. So 
habitually are they exercised that the public have 



510 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

come to consider them as a part of business and 
tradesmen have come to look upon them as a part 
of their legitimate and necessary capital. The 
success of every eminent shop-keeper is a standing 
refutation of this privileged misrepresentation of 
goods and business. 

We have taken A. T. Stewart as the model 
tradesman for this chapter on merchandising. In 
the career of this man, who landed in America an 
Irish emigrant, with a few hundred dollars in his 
pocket, and his character in his breast, we find 
exemplified the originality of aims and methods, 
economy, sagacity, honesty, and truthfulness. . It 
has been urged that in the career of Mr. Stewart 
is to be found a denial of the doctrine of natural 
predilection for some business. It is true that, at 
school, his relish was for the classics, and that to 
the close of his life he displayed a fondness for 
certain classical studies. But it is also true that 
Mr. Stewart loved his own convenience and pleas- 
ure supremely, and that with his large fortune he 
could have retired at fifty and have pursued his 
favorite studies. That he did not, but continued 
to direct his vast business in person to the last 
month of his life, and then provided for the per- 
petuation of that business, is surely conclusive 
that, though schools may have afforded him a 
pleasant pastime, yet the supreme man was in the 
business.* 

* The author's failing health demanded a release from work at this point, 
and Prof. Monser kindly came to his assistance and completed the chapter. 



A. T. STEWART. 511 

Mr. Stewart, like many others, began business 
on a small scale, content to drudge and wait until 
such time as fortune should requite him for his 
toil. His motto was, " Heaven helps those who 
help themselves." We find him making his start 
in a small retail dry-goods store in New York, but 
doing nothing extraordinary until he had attained 
his majority. He then sailed for Ireland to secure 
a patrimony of one thousand pounds, which he 
invested in "insertions" and " scollop -trimmings," 
bringing them to America with him on his return. 
With these notions he made his little display at 
No. 283 Broadway, making quick sales and good 
profits. 

We now pass over a number of arduous years, 
merely noting his tact. Then, as now, there were 
constant auction sales in the city. These he 
always attended. His penchant was for "sample 
lots," which he purchased and conveyed to his 
store, where, with the aid of his wife, he pressed 
and dressed them out as good as new. Then the 
motley articles were classified and shelved, or hung 
out in the proudest array. As his invariable cus- 
tom was to buy and sell for cash, he was always 
ready for a bargain. By sticking to his ready- 
money principle, he was enabled to grant the 
very best terms to those who purchased of him. 

A celebrated painter says no one can draw a tree 
without, in some sense, becoming a tree. Thus 
was it with A. T. Stewart in business. He was 
business personified. With him it was business 



512 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

within and business without, till it shook off, like 
dust, from his very tread. His eye caught every 
thing. He was familiar with every detail. He went 
to his business with the constancy of a prisoner in a 
tread-mill. Time with him was a factor as valuable 
as to an astronomer in calculating an eclipse. Every 
moment was golden, and he allowed none to slip 
through his fingers. 

He was also the embodiment of precision. Each 
article had its place. He could go to any part of 
his store, in the dark, and put his hand at once on 
the goods he wanted. One of the secrets of his 
success was his accuracy. He was as particular in 
adjusting his transactions as a mathematician is in 
giving form and distance to his curves and angles. 
A place for every thing, and a time for every action, 
was an economy that became security for wealth. 

He was prescient. Ever watchful of the markets, 
his keen sagacity enabled him to prepare for those 
trade-storms which sweep over country and cities 
with such width and power. It was on such an occa- 
sion that he originated that now almost universal 
custom of marking goods " at cost," and forcing them 
on the market. When hard times set in, many 
were glad to avail themselves of " Stewart s bargains." 
Others, less knowing and less cautious, were 
compelled to sell at auction, so as to obtain ready 
money. Stewart always had that ready money to 
spare, and, by attending these sales, he could so 
supply himself as to still sell at cost and realize 
forty per cent. At one time, it is said, he purchased 





m. 






o \ 



A. T. STEWART. 



A. T. STEWART. 513 

fifty thousand dollars' worth of silks in this way, 
sold the whole lot in a few days, and realized on 
them a profit of twenty thousand dollars. 

Another instance of his prescience was the erec- 
tion of his retail store. A quarter of a century 
since he foresaw the change of business to new 
localities, and purchased a piece of property far 
away up town. His friends were astonished at his 
boldness, and reasoned the case with him, but he 
told them a few years w r ould be sufficient to vindi- 
cate his action. The New York sight-seer now finds 
A. T. Stewart's block in the center of one of the 
most thriving portions of the city. He exhibited a 
great deal of shrewdness, also, in preparing himself 
for the change of affairs brought about by our own 
war. Knowing there would be a great demand for 
clothing and blankets, he bought the materials in 
all directions, making a profit of many millions in 
his transactions with the government, though always 
possessing a patriotism that preserved his liberality 
with the nation. 

He foresaw, too, that cottons would appreciate 
largely in value, and made such immense purchases 
as to be able substantially to control the market 
for years. His net business profits for the next 
year he returned at over four millions of dollars. 

It was one of his marked habits to avoid the use 
of other men's capital in building up his business. 
What he could not accomplish with his own earn- 
ings, he bravely left alone. Beecher says : " No 
blister draws sharper than interest does. Of all 

33 



514 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

industries none is comparable to that of interest. It 
works all day and all night, in fair weather and foul. 
It has no sound in its footsteps, but travels fast. 
It gnaws at a man's substance with invisible teeth. 
It binds industry with its film, as a fly is bound in 
a spider's web. Debts roll a man over and over, 
binding hand and foot, and letting him hang upon 
the fatal mesh until the long-legged interest devours 
him." We know of a city in the West in which 
business men, almost the entire length of its most 
vigorous street, rely on the mercies of three ple- 
thoric banks. They run their business on sixty- 
day paper almost wholly, and such a worry and 
scramble to make ends meet and win victory out 
of defeat you never witnessed. It is said that 
"where the carcass is, there the eagles do gather." 
That Western would-be metropolis contains more 
administrators than any town we know of. 

Mr. Stewart was rigidly economical. Without 
this, fortune is a fickle, delusive thing. Economy is 
the ground-work of independence ; it is the parent 
of temperance and health, and the sister of thrift. 
Too many sing, with Bishop Still — 

" Back and side, go bare, go bare ; 
Both foot and hand, go cold ; 
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, 
Whether it be new or old." 

Such persons proceed upon the Epicurean maxim, 
" Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow 
we die," and verify it most exactly to the end. 



A. T STEWART. 515 

To-morrow was the time Stewart hoped and 
expected to live. But he knew what must be 
done, and what resisted, if he would succeed. 
Economy, to him, was neither an infliction nor an 
affliction ; it was a necessary, but chosen, element 
of his being. He looked upon waste as a sin ; he 
would almost as soon have thought of robbing a 
man as of squandering his hard earnings. Hence 
he never speculated or gambled. What he expended 
was done by clear, square computations. Every 
matter was weighed on the scales before it was 
engaged in ; every thing was balanced, pro and contra, 
before it went out of his hands. He kept a cool 
head, an inflexible will, a tenacious grip on his 
business, a temperate desire, and a legitimate pur- 
pose ever before him. 

As he acquired means, he laid it out in substan- 
tial investments. Without being pledged to either 
Say or Adam Smith, he was by nature and prac- 
tice a political economist. He looked at capital 
and estate with the eye of a familiar. With 
Everett, he held that, without capital, "there can 
be no exercise on a large scale of the mechanic 
arts, no manufactures, no private improvements, no 
public enterprises of utility, no domestic exchanges, 
and no foreign commerce." He thought it most 
imprudent to enter into any financial undertakings, 
trusting to credit or money accommodations for 
the necessary stock. He was not like Barnum, 
when he conceived the idea of purchasing the 
American Museum, confessing that "silver and gold 



516 success in life. 

he had none — only brass." On the contrary, he 
made no venture, excepting as he felt rooted down 
in all directions. He proposed to keep perpendicu- 
lar to all misfortunes, if precaution could assure it. 

He never purchased "at the top of the market." 
The market must be flat and almost spleenful in 
its dullness if he gave it any attention. It was 
when the waters were all receded that he put out 
from shore ; but then, in what triumph he rode in 
astride the returning wave ! As he made an extra 
ten or twenty thousand, he would lay it out in 
some portion of New York destined to advance in 
prosperity. The investments being made from his 
own earnings, it mattered little to him how prices 
lagged, or how they rose or fell. Behind him 
there was no howl and rush of a timorous and 
affrighted constituency. He suffered no run on his 
bank. Like any man who appreciates the gift of 
clear vision, he would only move out as he could 
see his way ; and, as he opened up his track in the 
front, he put down the brakes in the rear, thus 
controlling the speed of his machinery and secur- 
ing its equilibrium. 

It may be of interest to some of our readers to 
give the results of a day's sales at Mr. Stewart's 
retail house, together with one or two other statistical 
items. We therefore choose a sample taken from 
an article prepared by Mr. James D. Mill, himself 
a New York merchant : 

"The accounts of each department are kept 
separately, and the sales of each day constitute a 



A. T. STEWART. 517 

separate return. These sales will average some- 
thing like the following figures : 

Silks, - $15,000 

Dress goods, - 6,000 

Muslins,- - 3,000 

Laces, _____ 2,000 

Shawls, - . - _ - _ 2,500 

Suits, ------ 1,000 

Calicoes, - i>5°o 

Velvets, ----- 2,000 

Gloves, - - - - 1,000 

Furs, --_--- 1,000 

Hosiery, - 600 

Boys' clothing, - 700 

Notions, ----- 600 

Embroideries, - 1,000 

Carpets, ----- 5,500 

"The total daily receipts average $60,000, and 
have been known to amount to $87,000. The 
employes' book in the retail house contains upward 
of 2,200 names. Salaries of subordinate clerks 
range from $5 to $25 per week, and cash-boys 
receive $5 per week." 

As Mr. Stewart was an originator of many 
methods and tacts in trade, so he may be pro- 
nounced a commercial reformer in his principles. 
He mixed the fire of the moral sentiments with 
the cold and heartless tendencies of business. He 
cultivated an unwillingness to violate character 
with such persistence that he became an example 
to others. 

Slowly, like the cleansing of a lazar-house, did 
he renew and reconstruct the habits of those 



518 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

within the scope of his influence. And yet it was 
these characteristics which, to many merchants, 
made his life a cunning mystery, and a rock of 
offense. Snares and bribes were set for him by 
the crafty ones, but he was neither to be entrapped 
nor bought. Opposition was set on foot to put 
him to the rout, but it was as futile as it was 
venomous. His breast was always open to honor- 
able inquiry. He was ready to reason with his 
opponents as to the wisdom of his career. But he 
was too firm and too faithful to his own interests 
and the interests of mankind to yield one jot 
or tittle. 

He put forth his goods to all at honest selling 
prices, but he never fell. This was contrary to his 
conception of honor. He held that all customers 
should be treated alike. It was contemptible, in 
his opinion, to hear of men saying, " Well, seeing 
its you, I'll take so and so; but don't say anything 
about it!" This, to him, was either hypocrisy or 
treachery, and he despised both. What he held 
as an individual duty, he enforced upon his clerks. 
The common habits of misrepresenting goods — 
denying them when returned on account of flaws — 
and lying as regarded cost or quality, he would not 
brook for an instant, He held that no business 
could thrive upon such a course, and for him 
there were good mercantile, as well as moral, 
reasons for putting his veto upon it. In such 
cases, he would take the clerk aside and reason 
the matter with him, showing that, by such con- 



A. T. STEWART. 519 

duct, customers would become suspicious and 
distrustful, and eventually forsake the establishment. 
In more than one instance, the self-conceit of the 
clerk so far got the mastery that he packed up his 
traps and left, seeking a shop where "his proprietor 
would not be ruined by such whims and crotchets." 

Honesty, with him, was the best policy. He 
knew the constant temptation hovering over a man 
in daily business. He not only dreaded detection 
and disgrace — he had a sense of the value of 
reputation. Hence he could not share in that con- 
ventional and dubious morality that obtained all 
about him. He saw that the margin which sepa- 
rates right and wrong was remorselessly trodden 
under foot *by minute and repeated encroachments. 
He could bear with the lesser liberties of his 
employes so long as he felt them to be harmless; 
but w r hen he discovered them crossing the line of 
rectitude he became indignant. With him justice 
was justice. He saw that every thing tilts and 
rocks which is not founded on just principles. 
There were honest opportunities to make money 
without defrauding purchasers. He could not bear 
to have them face to face with him, pouring forth 
their upbraidings. He could not bear the whisperings 
of his own conscience, if it informed him of one 
iota that was unfair between him and his fellow- 
men. His moral sense told him it was unmanly. 

Honest with his customers, he was also honest 
with his clerks. It was his aim to make them feel 
that they were all necessary parts of the firm. 



520 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

While he required the closest attention to business 
during business hours, he did not act as though 
the wages he paid them gave him right and title 
to their souls. He knew human nature too well 
to provoke it to extremes of any sort. He well 
understood that the best bow must, at times, be 
unstrung, or else it loses its elasticity and force ; 
so he was rather disposed to take the extra labor 
on himself than impose it upon those under 
him. 

Next to honesty, with Mr. Stewart, was courtesy 
in business. This was ever in his mind in the 
selection of his clerks. He sought for every 
quality of character that tends to secure this. 
Parentage, breeding, opportunity, all cut a figure with 
him. He held that there is something in "blood." 
Some persons, by birth, are "nature's noblemen;" 
while others are boors to begin with, and to the end, 
despite father, mother, schooling, society, or city. 
He did not like to see one of his employes whittling 
a stick, or smoking a pipe or cigar like a hackman ; 
nor would he endure it. There must be taste in 
manners and toilet, and grace and dignity in mien. 
Above all else, he would suffer no self-satisfied 
smirks or foppery in the presence of ladies. There 
must be no partialities ; no superciliousness to those 
clad in cheap attire. Any one who stepped inside 
his store, poor or rich, was assured of the most 
decorous treatment. There could be no imperti- 
nences shown such as were ignorant of the ways of 
trade or the amenities of society. He was debtor 



A. T. STEWART. 521 

to all sorts of people in his dealings and accom- 
modations. He would not have his clerks too 
servile or fawning, nor would he permit them to be 
abrupt. If, after much kind remark and training, 
a candidate for his favor failed to adopt the golden 
mean, he must try his fortune as a salesman else- 
where. Of all he required patience to meet a 
customers desires, and fathom his needs. 

No one can deny that Mr. Stewart loved money, 
and loved to make it. It was for him, as for 
many more, a profession. He became absorbed in 
it upon the same principle a poet becomes absorbed 
in poetry, or an artist in sculpture. He had his 
way to make in the world with the rest of man- 
kind, and the choice he made harmonized most 
with his taste and abilities. But Mammon was 
not exclusively the god of his affections. If money- 
making was with him a propensity; if it employed 
his activities or heightened his joy; if it opened up 
for him avenues of operation, secured that power 
that is found in a wealth of repose, or gave him a 
rare notoriety — it was always kept subordinate to 
an unimpeachable manhood. Some men, as they 
become affluent, grow heartless. The train of their 
thoughts is indissolubly linked to selfish increase ; 
they are afflicted by the cravings of an unsated 
appetite ; they lose all sense of soul, save as a 
commodity of traffic ; and the estimate they place 
on the public is proportioned to the extent of 
their hopes in exhausting them of their posses- 
sions. An impalpable veil conceals from their eyes 



522 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

all objects of human compassion, and they are 
strangers to charity. 

Such, however, was not the case with A. T. 
Stewart. Like Peabody, he made princely dona- 
tions. He acknowledged his obligations to those 
who had made it possible for him to attain his 
position. He loved his fatherland like a true son 
of Erin, and, when it was desolated by famine, 
was among the first to render it solid aid. The 
country of his adoption also found a share in his 
liberality. His treasury was ever open to the 
Union during the war. He had a firm faith in 
American securities, and took with pleasure his 
nations obligations. When the proud and magnifi- 
cent city of the lake-shore was humbled to ashes, 
he sent fifty thousand dollars to the sufferers. 
But he had a repugnance to the ostentation so 
common to public charities : his benefactions were 
given quietly. 

He conducted business on business principles, 
and not on sentimental. It is said that on a 
certain occasion Astor had some transactions with 
a church trustee, who was eager to obtain a reduc- 
tion of price for his people. "No!" said Astor; 
"business is business, and I shall charge you just 
the same as any one else." The trustee reasoned 
and persisted, but Astor stood firm, and so the 
transaction terminated. Instantly, he filled out a 
draft for a thousand dollars, and, handing it to the 
trustee, said : " I shall be happy to contribute my 
mite now, to your undertaking." 



A. T. STEWART. 523 

Some feeling of this sort pervaded Stewart also. 
He deprecated that system of dead -heading and 
begging so frequently practiced by extravagant 
aspirants for church architecture. With him, 
churches ought to conduct their business on as 
strictly independent principles as banks or other 
mercantile corporations. He saw no reason why 
men of immense wealth in various denominational 
connections should so draw the line between what 
they owned and what belonged to God, as to put 
their pittance in the Master's treasury and the 
lion's share in their own. If they were really 
what they professed, let them show it by their 
actions. 

We are not so to be construed, in this last 
paragraph as to reflect on proper pleas for relig- 
ious help, or on Mr. Stewart's regard for such. 
He was not callous to the gospel claim, nor was 
he averse to reciprocity. No man appreciated 
benefactions or support more than he. It was 
neither in his nature nor his wisdom to isolate 
himself from the sympathy and respect of society. 
He honored that maxim, " Live and let live." He 
believed in doing unto others as he would be 
done by ; but he came to human beings with 
moderate expectations, and he liked to be so 
approached. He had a keen sense of equity; he 
could not concur in many of the self-aggrandizing 
schemes presented for his consideration. While 
the claimant affected to satisfy himself with the 
mere edgings of the wealthy, he knew that he was 



524 SUCCESS IN LIFE. 

as quick to grind the faces of the poor. Often he 
had remarked that the proceeds passed into the 
hands of stalled dignity, or else became the occa- 
sion of greedy strife. 

Moreover, he possessed one of those extra tones 
of judgment so necessary to welcome and support 
a business career. To him it was no charity to 
bestow goods on the gourmand or professional beg- 
gar. If he reserved his benefits from such 
applications, it was only that he might not be 
stripped of power in a season when he felt he 
must render assistance. But, although he had the 
courage to refuse the unjustly importunate, he was 
never surly ; he was simply determinate. He did 
not resist and resent as the habit of his life; nor 
did he, like some, give twenty-five cents to every 
person and every thing that came along. Into his 
charities, as much as elsewhere, he carried his origi- 
nality of method. He never became jealous of his 
fortune : nor did he sit among his bags and die of 
utter want. He had views, and he proposed to 
maintain them. Let whoever else would be unrea- 
sonable, he would be reasonable; let whoever might 
find fault, he* would exercise discretion and acquit 
his conscience. 

He had learned the fact that .the receiver could 
be ungenerous as well as the giver. With his quick 
eye he read that man who, having obtained one 
benefit, took advantage of the fact, and, with an 
inflamed rapacity, knocked anew at his door. 
Harpies were his abhorrence; he saw with regret that 



A. T. STEWART. 525 

they exhausted the benevolence of a community, 
drawing helping hands aside to their exclusive bene- 
fit. He saw that they preyed upon the com- 
passionate principles of our human nature; and for 
the very love that he bore the needy, he resolutely 
refused to open his hand or his heart to them. To 
our thinking, he has given a beautiful expression of 
this among the latest acts of his life, in the hand- 
some block he has reared for the benefit of thework- 
ingwomen of New York City. Like a man we know 
of in Illinois, who permitted himself to be misunder- 
stood for years, in order that he might gather his 
little all together and erect a church in his com- 
munity with his own hands, so Stewart has passed 
by much, that he might give his strength to more 
worthy and more enduring works of charity. 




INDEX. 



Alfieri, 43. 

Aristotle, 89. 

Angelo, Michael, 89 ; his estimate of 

trifles, 255. 
Arnold, 40. 
Alexander the Great, 109; his fabled 

armor, 482. 
JEsop, a slave, 113. 
Auld, the master of Fred. Douglass, 113. 
Alexander of Russia, at Berlin, 119. 
Athelstane the Unready, 135. 
Adams, John Quincy, 20, 136. 
Ahmed, Prince, 148. 
Archimedes, 164. 
Abernethy, 170. 

Alliteration of self-made men, 249. 
Alexander, Dr., 280. 
Antony, Mark, 289. 
Argyle, Duke of, 295. 
Alford, Dean, 318. 
Alexander, John T., estimate of Yates 

and Greene, 398. 
Agassiz, Professor, his versatility, 38, 

416. 
Arthur, King, 482. 
Alcott, Bronson, 425. 
Arnold, Dr. Thomas, 429. 
Adams, Sebastian C, his chart, 441. 
Audubon, 475. 
Anaxagoras, 481. 
Astor, a business quality, 522. 

Borgia, Cesare, 57. 

Beecher, Henry Ward, on culture, 156 ; 

on luck, 258. 
Barnes, Albert, 38, 70. 
Burney, Dr., 159. 
Baxter, William, 159. 



Burritt, Elihu, on employment of time, 
16 ; his working, 163. 

Beecher, Dr. Lyman, 27 ; his study, 53. 

Bishop, Governor, 161. 

Breckinridge, John, 197. 

Boone, Daniel, 205. 

Brutus, 229. 

Barras, 239. 

Butler, " Sir Hudibras," 273. 

Buxton, Sir Fowell, 28. 

Business, eminent men in, 276. 

Beethoven, 273. 

Brown, John, 286. 

Baker, Col. E. D., 300. 

Butler, Bishop, 302. 

Bembo, Cardinal, 303 ; his painstak- 
ing, 462. 

Brooks, Phillips, 491. 

Burke, Edmund, 88, 117, 118; his 
advice to Barry, 284. 

Byron, Lord, 88, 92 ; his luck, 164 ; 
imitated, 470. 

Bacon, Lord, 89 ; on books, 166 ; his 
individuality, 466. 

Bonaparte, Napoleon, at Austerlitz, 
ng; 105, 118; at Lodi, 138; at 
Waterloo, 142 ; defending the 
National Convention, 237 ; his re- 
gard for time, 60. 

Buckle, 466. 

Bruno, at the stake, III. 

Barnum, P. T., 112. 

Bentham, Jeremy, 126. 

Bennett, James Gordon, and the 
Herald, 25. 

Brown-Sequard, Dr. 134. 

Brown, Dr. John, 134. 

Blucher, 142; at Waterloo, 144. 



528 



INDEX. 



Brummel, Beau, 146 ; his luck, 242 ; 

his manners, 431. 
Blaine, James G., 470. 
Brown, Samuel, 148. 
Baillie, Captain, 319. 
Brown, Sir Samuel, 322. 
Brunei, 322. 

Beecher, Dr. Edward, 375. 
Broderick, 410. 
Buffon, Comte de, 410 ; his patience, 

437- 
Bryant, William Cullen, 20 ; the 

economy of time, 65. 
Bruce, Robert the, 423. 
Brougham, Lord, 501. 
Buller, Charles, 503. 

Charles V, of Germany, 135. 
Coleridge, immethodical, 68, 149 ; his 

inconstancy, 171. 
Confucius, 458. 
Chesterfield, his knowledge of men, 

162 ; his culture, 267 ; his literary 

perseverance, 455. 
Constant, Benjamin, his failure, 170. 
Cobbett, William, learning grammar, 

172. 
Cromwell, Oliver, 183 ; died on his 

lucky day, 245. 
Charles II, 184. 
Choate, Rufus, 191 ; his preparation 

for a trial, 199; his drudgery in a 

case, 304. 
Collyer, Robert, 210 ; a Hercules, 491. 
Castlereagh, Lord, 213. 
Chamfort, 223. 
Clay, Henry, 86 ; his biography, 179 ; 

on the Missouri question, 468. 
Cicero, 91 ; his determination, 117, 118. 
Correggio, 43. 
Canning, Pitt's estimate of, 93 ; his 

drudgery, 305. 
Calhoun, John C, at Yale, 93, 118. 
Cervantes, Senor, 109 ; his poverty, 

128. 
Crockett, Davy, 52. 



Carlyle, Thomas, 109, 164; his rasp- 

ishness, 184. 
Chase, Salmon P., 114. 
Caesar, 118, 146. 
Chatham, Lord, 118 ; his humor 

223. 
Crittenden, John J., 468. 
Cuvier, 118; his scientific researches, 

461. 
Columbus, Christopher, 118. 
Croesus, 119. 

Common sense, its worth, 474. 
Clarke, Dr. Adam, 126. 
Claxton, Kate, 247. 
Coligny, Admiral, 253. 
Chaucer, 272. 
Copernicus, 272. 
Chateaubriand, 286. 
Cleopatra, 289. 
Charles XII of Sweden, 290 ; the 

turning-point in his character, 321. 
Cecil, 293. 

Cowper, 295 ; his melancholy, 496. 
Clarke, Dr. Adam, 302. 
Campbell, his poetical labors, 303. 
Clive, Lord, 311. 
Campbell, Lord, 320. 
Carey, William, 322. 
Crabbe, 324. 
Constantine, 328. 
Charles the Great, 328. 
Charlemagne, 482. 
Coriolanus, 331. 
Clarendon, 331. 
Cook, Captain, 333. 
Clarke, General, 343. 
Calphurnia, 389. 
Chapin, Dr., Yates and Greene at his 

church, 400; a Hercules, 491. 
Campbell, Alexander, 411. 
Cook, Rev. Joseph, his perseverance 

and versatility, 425. 
Colfax, Schuyler, 431. 
Constable, Archibald, 438. 
Compensation in the future, 440. 
Coxe, Archdeacon, 447. 



INDEX. 



529 



Demosthenes, 78 ; his toil, 456. 

Douglass, Frederick, 88, 113 ; his self- 
confidence, 114. 

Dewey, 94. 

Disraeli, his unfortunate beginnings, 
23, 104. 

Douglas, Catherine, in. 

Douglas, at Otterburn, 118. 

De Quincey, Thomas, his lack of de- 
cision, 146. 

Delambre, 461. 

Dyer, George, 149. 

Darwin, Dr., 159. 

Daguesseau, 159. 

Davy, Sir Humphry, on dexterous- 
ness, 172 ; his poverty, 460. 

Dante, 458. 

Darricott, Mrs., 186. 

Dryden, 254. 

Denney, Peter, 186. 

Drew, Daniel, 242. 

Dutch, their honesty, 266. 

De Leon, 284. 

Daru, 332. 

Drew, Samuel, 43, 359. 

Davis, Jeff., 412. 

Dana, Richard H., 418. 

Dickinson, Anna, failure on the stage, 
430. 

Dickens, Charles, his versatility, 443. 

Erskine, Thomas, 88; result of his 
first speech, 197 ; his early struggles, 
319 ; his poverty, 442. 

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 98 ; quota- 
tion, 107, 109 ; like Carlyle, 470. 

Evarts, William M., 36, 106. 

Eliot, George, no ; timely appearance 
of Daniel Deronda, 330. 

Eurybiades, 137. 

Eldon, Lord (John Scott), his early 
struggles, 25 ; driven to the law, 294. 

Exeter, Bishop of, 315. 

Ethelwald, 334. 

Emmet, Robert, 413. 

Edwards, Jonathan, 425. 



Ellenborough, Lord, 447. 
Epictetus, 482. 

Fortunes made after fifty, 27. 

Field, Cyrus W., 77. 

Fullerton, Judge, 77. 

Fox, Charles James, 88, 93 ; on con- 
tinuity of purpose, 171. 

Franklin, Benjamin, 118, 157, 161 ; in 
London, 323. 

Fowler, Dr. Chas. E., 29. 

Frederick William, 119. 

Froude, 164. 

Faraday, Michael, his early struggles, 
249. 

Funchal, 312. 

Frederick the Great, educated by ad- 
versity, 355. 

Franklin, Sir John, 434. 

Ferguson, 438. 

Fidus and Cautious, 467. 

Feeble-bodied men, 496. 

Froissart, 499. 

George, Duke, in. 

Garrick, 50. 

Grant, General, on time, 60, 119. 

Gainsborough, 45. 

Goethe, 39. 

Grouchy, at Waterloo, 143. 

Great men often unpromising youths, 

21. 
Good, Dr. Mason, 159. 
Genlis, Madame de, 159. 
Gifford, 161. 
Gibbon, 164, 302. 
George III, 165. 
Gladstone, 186. 
Galton, 251. 

Gray, 302 ; his Elegy, 407. 
Gordon, Lord, 320. 
Gustavus, 322. 
Gracchus, 331. 

Greene, William G., his biography, 363 
Greeley, Horace, 394 ; his honesty, 412. 
Garrison, William Lloyd, 412. 
Guesclin, Bertrand de, 499. 



530 



INDEX. 



Herschel, 39. 

Henry, Patrick, 78. 

Hannibal, 78. 

Hood, Thomas, 91. 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 91. 

Hilton, Judge, 106. 

Hastings, Warren, 118; his resolu- 
tion, 354 ; his stature, 499. 

Handel, 42. 

Hercules, 118. 

Howe, Elias, 118. 

Humboldt, Alexander von, 118. 

Haydn, 42. 

Horace, 128. 

Hazlitt, William, 149 ; his opinion of 
a business man, 269 ; on talents," 477. 

Hogarth, 45. 

Horner, Sir Francis, on reading, 168. 

Homer, 57. 

Hamilton, Alexander, 183. 

Hannibal, 242 ; his training, 433. 

Heenan, 499. 

Hugo, Victor, Les Miserables, 22, 260. 

Helvetius, 279. 

Herbert, George, 283. 

Huss, John, 42, 322. 

Howard, Dr., 385. 

Habberton, 410. 

Hypatia, 416 

Hampden, John, 418. 

Hamilton, Gail, 432. 

Hobson, Admiral, his career, 442. 

Hilaire, Geoffrey St., 461. 

Hall, Robert, his criticism, 462 ; early 
rising, 69. 

Hosmer, Harriet, 469. 

Hill, Rowland, 463. 

Harvey, 466. 

Hesiod, 482. 

Holland, Dr., on physical culture, 491. 

Hall, Dr. John, 492. 

Hodson, of Hodson's horse, 494. 

Irving, Washington, on modest merit, 

250. 
Irritableness, value of the element, 282. 



Isomachus, 428. 
Ingersoll, Col., 470. 

Jenner, the physician, 105. 

Joshua, 31. 

Jackson, General, 105 ; his honesty, 225. 

Jackson, Stonewall, n6 : 145. 

Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 118; his rasp- 

ishness, 184 ; his wit, 223 ; his 

poverty, 250. 
Jefferson, Thomas, 183. 
Jowett, Professor, 186. 
Jacob, 247. 

Johnson, Andrew, 330. 
Junot, General, 343. 

Knowledge in the hands, 158. 
Kant, 302. 
Keeley, 465. 

Linn, W. W., 287 ; anecdote of Col. 
Baker, 300. 

Luther, Martin, his self-confidence, 
105, 130. 

Lannes, General, at Lodi, no. 

Laborers, Day, come to eminence, 28. 

Louis XIV, no; his faith in luck, 
245 ; his sword, 468. 

Latimer, Hugh, ill. 

Lely, Sir Peter, 41. 

Lincoln, Abraham, 114; assets at the 
grocery inventory, 366 ; an impor- 
tant place, 368 ; Yates and Greene's 
plan to nominate him for President, 
401. 

Livingstone, 118. 

Lamb. Charles, his release, 34 ; 146,149. 

Loyola, Ignatius, 169. 

Leonards, Lord St., on reading, 169. 

Lloyd, Senator, 220. 

Lick, James, his luck, 243. 

Luck, Ancients' belief in, 246 ; some 
incidents, 255 ; great works not of 
luck, 257. 

La Fayette, General, 346. 

Lamartine, 370. 



INDEX. 



531 



Leibnitz, 388. 

Logan, Olive, 430. 

Leyden, John, his struggles, 438. 

Longley, Frank, 445. 

Langdale, Baron, 446. 

Miller, Hugh, 89 ; his occupation, 64 ; 
over-worked, 493. 

Macaulay, Lord, 92, 148 ;his labor, 303. 

Mill, John Stuart, 114 ; his versatility 
injurious, 471. 

Moore, Tom, 92 ; his painstaking, 457. 

Melancthon, Philip, 159. 

Mosheim, 164. 

Motley, J. Lothrop, 164. 

Mather, Cotton, 43, 189. 

Malesherbes, M. de, his personal influ- 
ence, 189. 

Mommsen, 164. 

Marshall, John, 191. 

Marshall, Tom, his tribute to Clay, 233. 

Murray, William, 197. 

Madison, President, 217. 

Missouri Compromise, 220. 

Menou, General, his cowardice, 238. 

Molesworth, Sir William, 503. 

Mirabeau, 273. 

Montaigne, on rules, 68 ; on philoso- 
phers, 275. 

Miltiades, 291. 

Moliere, 303. 

Mansfield, 320. 

Maria Theresa, 355. 

Morton, O. P., 412. 

Marlborough, Duke of, his manners 
430. 

Mathews, Prof. Wm. M., his drudgery, 
453. 

Massillon, 458. 

Morosina, 462. 

Moore, W. T., 467. 

Murray, W. H. PL, his physique. 

Napoleon, Louis, 88 ; his luck, 260. 
Nelson, Lord, his estate, 60, 8S, 104 ; 
when a boy, 365. 



Nero, 146. 

Nichol, Prof., 148. 

Newton, Sir Isaac, 161 ; the apple at 

his feet, 237 ; his re-writing, 303. 
Nicholas, George, 197. 
Nimrod, A Kentucky, questions Clay's 

marksmanship, 206. 
Niebuhr, 332. 
Necker, Madame, 370. 
Newcastle, Duke of, 60. 
Nyssen, Gregory, 483. 
Neander, 482. 

Orpheus, 187. ' 

Orators, Young, Clay's advice, 232. 

Otway, 274. 

O'Leary, Mrs., her cow, 246. 

Oglesby, Senator, 407. 

Opie, his labors, 445. 

Palissy, Bernard, his steadfast aim, 

79- 

Peabody, George, 26. 

Peter the Hermit, 89. 

Pitt, William, 91, 112; Macaulay's 
estimate of his character, 272 ; his 
patience, 282 ; reply to Walpole, 409. 

Parr, Samuel, 148. 

Peel, Robert, 186. 

Pitkin, 213. 

Pericles, 272. 

Pope, Alexander, 274. 

Phillips, Wendell, 468. 

Palmerston, Lord, his power of con- 
centration, 279. 

Paley, Dr., 286. 

Peter the Great, 321. 

Prodicus, 386. 

Pythagoras, 386. 

Pliny, The younger, 388. 

Push, Dr., 414. 

Pedro, Dom, 425. 

Pillsbury, Parker, 426. 

Petrarch, 496. 

Pascal, Blaise ; his predilections, 47, 
496. 



532 



INDEX. 



Quincy, Josiah, his opposition to the 

war of 1812, 213. 
Quakers, The two, 433. 

Randon, the drummer, 93. 
Randolph, John, f. 14 ; his failure, 170; 

his last interview with Clay, 185 ; 

his compliment to Henry Clay, 226. 
Richter, Jean Paul, 130 ; his economy 

of time, 70. 
Rawlings, Mother, 54. 
Ruskin, John, 153; on native adapt- 

edness, 473. 
Rittenhouse, 161. 
Ralston, William, 163. 
Reading of many books, difference in 

men's ability, 165. 
Robertson, Frederick W., his reading, 

166. 
Roscius, 198. 
Rachel, 247. 

Richelieu, 283 ; his manners, 431. 
Reynolds, Sir Joshua, his opinion, 39, 

477- 
Rothschild, Baron, 283. 
Rainyer, Dr., 296. 
Romilly, 334. 
Radford, Reuben, 366. 
Richards, Mr. Justice, 444. 
Rufus, William, 499. 

Shakspeare, 78, 12. 

Scarlatte, 42. 

Scott, Sir Walter, 86, 146 ; his igno- 
rance at eighteen, 188 ; his habits, 
435 *> over- worked, 492. 

Saul, King, 100 

Sumner, Charles, 112, 113 , his self- 
assertion, 417. 

Scanderberg, 43. - 

Sherman, General, his opinion on the 
length of the war, 116; 126, 145. 

Somers, Chancellor, 47. 

Sothern, his stumbling, 132. 

Sidney, Sir Philip, 145 ; pattern of a 
gentleman, 434. 



Southey, 149. 

Sherman, Roger 157. 

Seneca, 158. 

Schurz, Carl, 161. 

Shelburne, Lord, 42, 189. 

Sheridan, 222 ; his lack of business 

sense, 273. 
Spartacus, 500. 
Socrates, 428. 

Smyth, General Alexander, 224. 
Scipio, 242. 
Salt, Captain, 247. 
Spurgeon, C. H., 265 ; his order, 293 ; 

imitated, 470. 
Smith, Henry W., 271. 
Spinoza, 271. 
Sterne, 273. 
Savage, 274. 
Spencer, Herbert, 281. 
Seward, William H., 284. 
Stewart, A.T.. 302 ; his biography, 507. 
Shelley, 303. 
Sallust, 322. 

Stephenson, George, 332. 
Smith, Sidney, 359. 
Sheridan, General, 364. 
Swett, Leonard, 401. 
Stephens, Alexander H., 432. 
Smith, Adam, 435. 
Shovel, Sir Cloudesley, 442. 
Swift, Dean, 495. 
Small men often great men, 498. 

Trisanc, King, 130. 

Twain, Mark, his oratory, 133. 

Themistocles, 137. 

Tenterden, Lord, 164 ; his poverty, 444. 

Taylor, Dr. 492. 

Teissier, Abbe, 461. 

Torricelli, 171. 

Tinsley, Peter, 187. 

Thiers, Adolphe, 260 ; over-worked, 

495- 
Thackeray, 262. 
Thales, 275. 
Tennyson, 283. 



INDEX. 



533 



Talleyrand, 284. 
Titian, 315. 
Talmage, 470. 
Tooke, Home, 320. 
Tresvant, 390. 
Toombs, Robert, 432. 
Thiriat, Xavier, 449. 
Train, George Francis, 466. 
Tupper, Martin F., 46 
Tasso, 475. 

Vallandigham, Clement L., 245 
Vanderbilt, Commodore, 112. 
Vinci, Leonardo de, 332 
Voltaire, 420. 

Webster, Daniel, 86, 118 ; his elo- 
quence, 230. 

West, boy painter. 45. 

Washington, George, 109. 

Wilson, Richard, 45. 

William the Silent, not silent, 112. 

Wright, Gov. Joseph, 54. 

Wilson, Henry, 114. 

Wellington, Duke of, 116, 118; at 
Waterloo, 141 ; his coolness under 
danger, 146, 151 ; ill-luck generated 



his pluck, 252 ; his ability for de- 
tails, 310. 

Wilson, Judge, 133. 

White, Kirk, 159; over- worked, 488. 

Wilkie, 161. 

Watt, 161. 

Watkins, Captain, 187. 

Wythe, Chancellor, his interest in 
Henry Clay, 189. 

Wolsey, Cardinal, 249. 

Wesley, John, 267. 

Walpole, Horace, 328 ; never doubted 
himself, 419. 

Woman's worth, 369 ; her influence as 
wife, 388. 

White, Louisa H., 387. 

Winchell, Professor, 417. 

Whittier, John G., 425. 

Wayland, Francis, 448. 

William the Conqueror, 482. 

William III, 497. 

Wmship, Dr., 499. 

Xavier, Francis, 189. 
Xenophon, 428. 

Yates, Richard, 367. 
Yancey, William L., 432. 



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